Harry Potter: Dumbledore's Legacy
by Wolversilvs
Summary: Trainee Potter had assumed that once Voldemort was gone, life would go a lot smoother than it had been going before. Well, that shows what Harry knew! A demon attack and the reappearance of a Phoenix, carrying a note from a man long dead, thrusts Harry into peril and adventure once again! What new threat is the world facing, and is he strong enough to fight it?
1. Prologue: Trainee Potter

AN:While I will be toying around with minor lore details in this fic, assume that most major plot points until the moment Voldemort dies still applies to this universe. This is intended to be a sort of sequel/spin-off hybrid that follows Harry's journey to greatness post-Voldemort.

I also want to spend some time fleshing out the Wizarding World, but I don't want to re-read every book in great detail, so I hope you can forgive the slight deviations from cannon lore that are no doubt found in this fic

While I will try to keep everyone's character consistent with their cannon portrayal, I am not J.K Rowling and have no ownership over anything Harry Potter related and therefore you can expect some degree of OOCness. Also note that two years have passed since we've last seen Harry and co., and so some change in personality is expected (I think).

Ginny will be out of character and will be portrayed rather negatively because the story necessitates it, but that's not because I hate Ginny or actually view her character in the way she is written here. I'm simply being a fanfic author and playing in this magical toy-box Ms. Rowling has gifted to the world.

Thank you for giving this story a chance, and I would highly appreciate if you left some reviews.

\- Wolver

Prologue: Trainee Potter

Auror trainee Harry James Potter collapsed into bed the moment he apparated into his tiny studio flat in Diagon Alley. He groaned in pain as he turned over to face the ceiling.

Harry had (rather naively) assumed that once Voldemort was gone (or had accidentally offed himself, as had been the case), life would go a lot smoother and more painlessly than it had been going before. He wasn't stupid enough to believe that it would be _completely _untroubled, but comparatively…

Well, that shows what Harry knew!

He considered just falling asleep and leaving his studying for the next day, but tomorrow was a Saturday, and that meant he HAD to visit the Weasleys, no ifs or buts about it.

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself up and dragged himself to the bathroom. He withdrew his wand and lit a candle with nothing but a minute flick of his wand.

Harry removed his wireframe rectangular glasses and twisted the metal handle of the tap, watching the water flow out with eyes half-closed. He washed his face with the cool water and stared at himself in the mirror.

While his scar had faded and he had filled out since his Hogwarts days, he was still undeniably Harry Potter. Oh sure, his features had gotten sharper, and his hair had grown longer, but he definitely still was the "Boy-Who-Lived". Or at least he didn't feel any different from the boy floundering his way around Hogwarts. Half the time, he still felt as if he had no idea what he was doing, NEWTs be damned!

He turned the tap off and walked back to his room with the candle in hand, passing his bed in favor of the uncomfortably hard chair in front of the small pinewood desk. A groan escaped his lips as he reached for his copy of _A Journeyman's Guide to Transfiguration._ It wasn't that Harry disliked the book, quite the opposite in fact, he found it quite interesting, but he was tired. Dead tired to be precise.

Harry supposed he shouldn't have expected anything else, what with being an auror trainee. After all, there was a saying in Wizarding Britain; Basilisks make for a Healer's squire and Dragons that spot aurors fly higher. And the proverb existed for good reason, as both those professions had one thing in common that put those that practiced them a cut above the average wizard; they had to approach mastery in almost every branch of Magic, and had to be true Masters of at least one.

Healers had to neutralize potions, transfigure curse wounds, and charm diseases away. If one couldn't do any of those things, the patient would die. If one couldn't do those things at the exact moment one needed to, the patient died anyway. And even if the patient survived, a Healer still had to make sure that they weren't called in front of the Wizengamot for 'malpractice'. And that's without even considering the more esoteric magical maladies...

And aurors had to be able combat and detect every branch of magic that existed. Not all dangerous criminals were Dark Arts practitioners, and an auror's work didn't exactly end at the battlefield. After all, there were laws to obey, forms to fill out and clues to follow, and letting a crime boss get away because you didn't know the slightest bit about transfigured wards would be…terrible wouldn't even match the severity of the situation.

Harry shut his book closed and got up from his seat, stretching his legs and groaning at the delightful burn that traveled up to his thighs. His reddened eyes flitted over to his bed before he squared his jaw. _Transfiguration exercises first, then sleep._

He withdrew his holly and phoenix feather wand from his wrist holster and a round pebble from his pocket. He swished and flicked his wand toward the pebble, and it floated a few centimeters above his hand. He directed the stone around the room, and without letting it pause, he muttered "_Gemino," _and suddenly there were two pebbles floating around his flat.

Harry smiled in pride. It had taken him an inordinate amount of time to duplicate objects immediately and without the characteristic spatial distortion, and a good deal more of it to do it while other spells (such as his _wingardium leviosa_) were active on the objects. Compensating for the arcane interference of other spells in object-based spell casting took a surprising amount of practice and study.

He narrowed his eyes in concentration and started Arslan's transfiguration drill in earnest. The twin pebbles started to orbit each other as they floated around the room and quickly (almost instantaneously and without any sort of distortion or liquefication) turned into blocks of wood. Then they became small needles. He wordlessly enlarged the needles, turning them into twin spires of death. He transfigured one of them into stone and the other into glass.

Then quick as a thought, he transfigured the glass spire into a dove (which immediately started to erratically fly around his room) and simultaneously transfigured the stone back into steel. Without a second's passing, he sent the spear flying towards the bird with a _Hooding's Banisher_, guiding it toward the creature with a subtle application of a _Leviosa _variant.

Harry quickly chained the flick of his last spell into the starting flick of his next spell that changed both objects into a swarm of bees, his last wand-motion being the only wand-motion of the last spell in Arslan's, _Pan's pananimalia Imperio_, which allowed Harry to control the swarm.

He directed the swarm around the room once before he split the swarm in half and transformed the bees back into the round pebbles he had originally. One popped out of existence while the other floated into his hand.

Harry looked at his steel wristwatch and grimaced when he saw the hour hand pointing to one. Normally he would go through Arslan's drill a few more times, speeding up each time he completed a cycle, but it simply was too late to do so.

Placing the rock and his wand onto his desk, he blew out the candle, undressed (tossing his clothes all over the floor in the process) and crawled into bed.

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Harry barely had enough time to brush his teeth and get dressed before he apparated over to the Burrow with a small pop. He had arrived right outside their front yard, and he couldn't help but smile a bit when he saw the tall and crooked house. He narrowly avoided stepping on a chicken as he knocked on the door.

Molly Weasley opened the door, smiled brightly, and pulled Harry into a tight hug. "Oooh Harry, how've you been? Have you been eating enough?" She asked as she pulled away and gave Harry a critical look .

Harry smiled sheepishly. "Ah Mrs. Weasley…" Mrs. Weasley's look intensified in response. "You know, with the auror training and everything, I just don't have the time-"

"Time, Harry?" she snapped, her brow furrowed "I send a box of ready-to-eat-food home with you every week!"

"And we have this conversation every week Mrs. Weasley," Harry replied with a lopsided grin. "Really I do this just so we can stick to tradition."

Despite her best efforts, a small smile made its way onto Mrs. Weasley's face. She rolled her eyes and let Harry in. "Hermione and the boys are all up in their rooms, puttering about, and Fleur is sitting outside with Teddy and Andromeda. Arthur is tinkering in his shed." Her eyes took on a distant quality, "Ginny, I think, will only be here for dinner."

Harry resisted the urge to wince. "Thank you. Speaking of dinner, you want any help?"

"Sweet of you to offer Harry, but I can handle it," she said, her soft smile firmly snapping into place, "I'll call you when lunch is ready."

Harry grinned in response, "Brilliant," he said as started walking toward the garden, "Call me if you need anything!"

He stepped out the backdoor and was greeted by the sight of two year old Teddy Lupin begging to be let on a broom.

"Grandy," he pleaded, his hair a pale yellow, "Lemme on broom!"

Andromeda's face took on an expression of fond annoyance, "No Teddy," she sighed.

Fleur's raised a dainty blonde brow as she grinned at Andromeda "Oh but he's so cute, non?"

Andromeda narrowed her steel grey eyes at her, ignoring Teddy's renewed whining. "We'll talk about cute after yours is born."

"Quite true, and after all, he simply has to ride his first broom with me," Harry joined in, sending a teasing grin over to Andromeda, "_Grandy._"

All three of them turned to face him, and Teddy barreled into Harry's shins in his hurry to give him a hug. "Godpa Harry!"

Harry picked him up, groaning in mock effort as he picked him up and brought him up to eye level. "My my, Teddy, You're getting big aren't you?"

Teddy, whose hair was now a brilliant orange, nodded vigorously. "Uhuh, Uhuh! But Grandy says I'm too small for broom…"His grey eyes started shifting to Harry's emerald green as he adopted a pleading expression.

Harry laughed as he let him down, "Yeah a bit too small for that, although you are getting awfully wordy." He approached Andromeda and gave the thin older woman a warm hug, "Is that normal at this age Grandy?"

She smiled fondly, "No, but he gets it from his mother." She arched a brow, "And it's bad enough Teddy calls me that ridiculous name Potter, you don't have to join in."

Fleur embraced Harry, her swollen belly making the embrace a bit awkward. "Ah, but saying Grandmuzzer Andromeda is such a hassle," she said while kissing Harry's stubbled cheek, "best to put the two together I think!"

Harry winked at her, "I find myself agreeing Fleur. It is such a charming name after all."

The adults shared a laugh while Teddy watched on in confusion. He pulled at Harry's leg, "Did you catch any bad guys?"

"No Teddy," Harry's eyes twinkled at the familiar question, "but as I tell you every week, you'll be the first to know when I do."

Teddy nodded solemnly, and Harry wondered, not for the first time, if he actually understood his answer. Teddy quickly extended a supinated palm, "Candy?" he asked with hopeful eyes.

Andromeda's brows furrowed, "Come on Harry, you do this every week, and you know how hyperactive he can ge-"

Harry knelt down, and pressed the candy that was in his pocket into Teddy's palm. "A lemon sherbet, just for you Teddy."

Andromeda glared at Harry as Teddy unwrapped the sweet and stuffed it into his mouth without preamble, her eyes promising painful retribution. "One of these days Harry, I'm going to leave him with you during one of his hyperactive episodes and then we'll see who's amused!"

Harry was about to reply when Fleur's laughter interrupted his train of thought. "Go say hi to Mr. Weasley, Harry. Before you make this situation any worse for yourself."

He ruffled Teddy's hair as he walked off, still chuckling. "I'll see you three in a bit!"

As he made his way over to the shed, he noticed a gnome quickly pop its head down into a bush near the perimeter of the property. He promised himself that he would convince Ron and the others to help him with de-gnoming the yard. Someone had to, especially now since none of the Weasley children lived in the Burrow anymore.

BANG! Harry heard an explosion coming from the shed, and he tore off towards it without a second thought. He withdrew his wand and sent a banisher at the door in a single, fluid motion, blasting it wide open. He stepped in only to find that Arthur Weasley was berating George, a thoroughly annoyed expression adorning his face.

Harry grinned as he vanished a charred piece of cardboard, watching with fond amusement as a cringing George Weasley tried to placate his father. "Really, Dad, it was an accident, you know I wouldn't d-oh look," he suddenly exclaimed, his expression suddenly shifting to one of relief, "Harry's here!"

Mr. Weasley turned his head, the curves of a soft smile forming on his visage. "Harry," He stepped forward to wrap the spectacled man in a gentle embrace. "How are you, son?"

Harry felt something warm spread out from his stomach all over his body. "I'm fine Mr. Weasley, and yourself?"

"Good, good, can't complain. I still have your gay-sette by the way."

Harry saw George cough into a closed fist. "Don't worry about the cassette. Keep it for as long as you like." He turned his head over to George and pointedly raised a brow "George, still up to no good I see."

The prankster's grin widened, "Oh auror Potter, I solemnly swear it."

Harry shook his head, a small chuckle rumbling his belly as it escaped his lips. "auror trainee actually."

"And why is that?" George said, his brows furrowed "You've been in training for the past two years. You should have been a junior auror by last year!"

"Well," said Harry, slightly uneasy with the topic "Perhaps I'm not good enough..."

"Bullocks, that is! It's unfair what they're doing to you."

Harry decided to change the topic. "I assume that explosion was you, then?"

"Err-"

Mr. Weasley quickly cut him off, "I had allowed him to look at some of the muggle board-games I have collected, provided he behaved himself." He looked at George from out the corner of his eye. "It seems my one condition was a bit too much to handle."

"Sorry.." he said, looking entirely unapologetic. "We-" George's smile took on a forced quality, before it quickly rearranged itself into his usual hyena-like smile.

Neither Harry nor Mr. Weasley commented on it.

"-_I_ am planning on adapting a few muggle board games so that we can sell them over at the Wheezes."

"What," Harry enquired "like basilisks and brooms instead of snakes and ladders?"

"Good name Harry, mind if I steal it?"

Mr. Weasley interrupted before Harry could respond, "You can stay for as long as you want, Harry." His eyes narrowed as his gaze landed upon his son, "You on the other hand, can get out."

George placed a hand over his heart as he wobbled back and forth. "Oh dearest daddy fath-"

"Preferably before you blow something else up."

George laughed as he stepped out the shed, "I'll come back another time then. Come on Harry, let's go bother mum."

Harry waved at Mr. Weasley before he walked back over to kitchen. George switched the places of the sugar and salt jars the moment they arrived.

Shaking his head, Harry made his way upstairs, making short conversation with Bill and Percy as he passed their rooms. He eventually found himself in front of Ron's room and opened the door without bothering to knock.

He instantly regretted his decision.

Ron and Hermione jumped away from each other, their faces a matching Weasley red.

"Haven't you heard of knocking, Harry?!" Hermione hissed as she straightened her ruffled clothing.

"I wasn't expecting you to be joined at the lips, believe you me! Some self control, Ron?"

"Mate," Ron chuckled breathlessly, "She's the insatiable one, as unbelievable as that may sound."

"_Ronald!_" she screeched, a scandalized expression upon her face.

"It's always the quiet ones eh," Harry joked

Ron let out a booming laugh while Hermione gaped and twitched like a fish that just landed on shore.

"It's not often we leave her speechless," Harry said between sniggers.

"Harry, that might be true for you," Ron said, his blue eyes sparkling with humor, "but I often put her in situations where she can't use her mouth to talk."

Ron gave them both a minute to let his words sink in. Harry doubled over in laughter.

Hermione drew her wand.

Harry's wand was in his hand the moment he saw Hermione's in her grip, and managed to deflect all the stinging hexes aimed towards him into the ground with practiced ease. Ron, on the other hand...

"Ow, woman, that bloody hurt!" He said as he rubbed the welts that now covered every other inch of his body.

"Well maybe think before you speak then, Ron," She sniffed. She narrowed her eyes when she saw that Harry was completely unharmed. "I'm not sure if I'm a fan of your auror training."

He laughed nervously. "Not sure you would need it to be dangerous Hermione," He said, attempting to placate her. He glanced at Ron and cringed in sympathy, "How does a Ministry Barrister end up so good with her wand anyways?"

"Someone has to keep him in line," she said, jerking her head towards Ron. She watched for a moment as the ginger struggled to heal a welt on his back, the tip of his wand never exactly lining up with the inflamed patch of skin. "Oh here," she said as she got behind him. She murmured the counter curse, and Ron sighed in relief.

"You're brilliant 'Mione," Ron laughed, "Scary, but brilliant." Hermione huffed, but Harry noticed a fond smile worming its way onto her face. Harry sat down on the bed next to his friends and grinned in contentment.

The trio sat in comfortable silence for a moment, simply enjoying each other's company.

Ron finally broke it by asking about Harry's auror training.

"It's good, but tiring." Harry responded. "It's really interesting though," he added as an after thought. "How about the preschool? Are your plans going alright?"

Ron's chest puffed out. "Great! Swimmingly well in fact!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah! We even got the funding and premises and a name and everything!"

Harry leaned towards him, "Go on then, tell me about it!"

Before Ron could respond, Hermione sighed in exasperation, "He's calling it the Weasley's Wizarding Womb." Ron looked as if he was about to defend himself, but Hermione quickly cut him off. "_Womb_, Harry, _Womb_! Tell him it's a ridiculous idea."

"Yeah well, a womb is nurturing and comforting and so is a nursery!" Upon seeing Harry's disbelieving expression, he quickly added "And Bill's planning on opening a private warding company called Weasley's Wizarding Wards in the future. Wouldn't want to break the pattern you know…"

Harry laughed, "Its not too terrible Ron, don't worry about it. Better than SPEW at least!" Hermione stuck her tongue out at them as Ron nudged her with his elbow. "Tell me about the funding and premises."

"The funding was mostly 'Mione actually," he shot a smile over at her direction and she preened. "Once she got her bill passed, the Wizengamot needed to execute it. I was just so lucky," he grinned roguishly, "that my plans were mostly drafted up and ready for submission when the bill was passed, before anyone else could do anything about it. Ministry practically handed the galleons over to me. Coincidence, that."

Harry whistled. "Didn't you propose that bill two weeks ago? How in Merlin's name did you get it passed so quickly?"

"It wasn't that difficult really," she said with a proud tilt of her head, "I just mentioned how allowing muggleborn magicals to enter the wizarding world at an early age would help with their integration and give them a solid foundation for their Hogwarts years,

"And I may or may not have implied that getting purebloods to interact with the muggleborn during their formative years would help with easing away the prejudices some students may have." Something deep and dark softened her brown eyes. "It really hasn't been that long since the Blood War ended after all…. Everyone wants to distance themselves from the rhetoric that sparked it…"

A solemn silence permeated the room.

"Well," Ron barked out, causing the other two thirds of the golden trio to jump, "look at my wife, barely a year as a legal-witch and already getting bills passed." He mimed wiping tears out of his eyes, "I'm so proud."

Hermione punched Ron on the arm, but Harry could clearly see the pleased expression that she wore.

Harry laughed and clapped Ron on the shoulder. Ron always could lighten up even the darkest of situations. Harry had always like that about him. "Tell me about the place you've got Ron."

His best friends smiled viciously. "I think that may be the best part!"

"Oh, do tell?"

"Well the Malfoys had to sell off a lot of property to pay off their fines-"

"Wait a minute," Harry interrupted "didn't they, you know…"

Ron looked at Harry, confusion marring his expression, while Hermione rolled her eyes. "Your speaking on their behalf did absolve them of their Azkaban worthy crimes. They still, however, had to pay for all the property damage they caused during Voldemort's reign of terror."

"Ah." Harry had always felt weird that his actions had allowed the Malfoys to get off scot-free. Knowing that they had paid for their crimes in some way, no matter how small it was, made Harry feel a bit better.

"Well," Ron said, "the place the Ministry gave us was one of the places the Malfoys used to own. A big holiday home over in Cornwall. We only need to change it up a little, and reconnect the place to the floo, and we've already got our place!"

"That's great Ron, I'm sure it'll be great," Harry said earnestly.

"It sure is! And I can only imagine Malfoy's reaction when he finds out little muggleborn kids are pawing about his old holiday home!"

The boys giggled in sadistic glee, and even Hermione snorted in amusement.

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Harry spent the morning playing with Teddy, talking to his friends, and eating Molly's wonderful food for lunch. Afterwards, he recruited a few of the male Weasley children into helping him de-gnome the garden. And he may or may not have guilted them into it by reminding that there really wasn't anyone to help out with it during the week.

And he may or may not have spent the next hour dodging hexes aimed at his back.

Before long the aroma of Molly's scrumptious cooking had diffused into every corner of the Burrow, and the Weasley matriarch's booming voice had called all those present over to the dinner table.

Harry smiled as he walked past a snoozing Teddy snoring softly in his cot.

He sat down between Andromeda and Ron, right across Fleur. His mouth watered as he looked at the various foods placed upon the table

He purposefully blocked out the significance of the empty chair on the far end of the table.

A silence descended upon the Burrow as everyone waited for it to happen. Harry bit back a grimace at Molly's hopeful expression.

A black owl tapped on the window, and Bill flicked his wand to let it in. Molly read the letter with watering eyes, and Harry couldn't help but look at the empty chair.

Harry would have felt guilty, would have worried that he was the reason that she was keeping away, if he hadn't known that simply wasn't true. She had started keeping away long before they had broken up, and that was precisely the reason why they had separated to begin with.

Still, he felt a sharp pang as he looked at the extra seat that Molly prepared every week without fail.

Arthur forced a smile onto his face. He plucked the letter from his wife's grip and vanished it with a flourish of his wand. "This all looks delicious dear. Why don't you tell us who made what?"

Molly flashed him a grateful smile and the building tension drained from the dining room. "Well the salad was made by Andromeda."

"Sorry I can't make anything else," she smiled softly "My husband always used to be the better cook between us."

"Nonsense Andi, this is more than enough!" Molly protested before continuing, "And the booola-base-"

"Bouillabaisse," Fleur cut in with a warm smile, "I thought something French would help balance out this heavy English fare."

As Molly wagged her finger at Fleur good-naturedly, Harry couldn't help but marvel at how much Molly's relationship with her daughter in law had improved ever since Fenrir Greyback had scarred Bill.

_Silver linings, _he thought with amusement.

"Yes well that and the soup was by our resident food snob." Molly finished with a smile.

Everyone looked at her expectantly.

"Well go on everyone, dig in!"

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Harry desperately gasped for breath, as his arms, legs, and everything really felt as if they were burning with the intensity of _Fiendfyre. _

He ducked under a vibrant yellow curse. Diving into the large dueling room. "Get your wand out Potter, no breaks for you!" A gruff voice called out from his front.

He quickly withdrew his wand from his wrist holster. Harry eyed senior auror Corvus Proudfoot carefully, cursing the black haired wizard's name with every other breath. He signaled three relatively young aurors to come forwards.

"Trainee Potter, you will engage these three gentlemen in combat."

Harry would have sworn if he had the energy to. _I just finished running 5 kilometers, and that was right after your calisthenics training too!_

"You may only use object based magic."

Harry was now thoroughly convinced that Proudfoot wanted to kill him.

He went under and over the hexes and curses sent his way as he mentally took stock of what magic he could use under his constraints.

_Terrain manipulation spells, _he thought as he brought his wand up, the ground beneath him folding upwards to block the spells heading towards him. He jabbed the stick of holly forward, and the earth he had brought upwards moved like a wave towards two of the aurors that were sticking a little bit too close together.

_Pure transfiguration_, Harry danced around the jets of light the third sent, feeling more than seeing one of the other two use blasting curses to create a gap in the earthen wave that they could safely step through.

He transfigured some of the rubble that had resulted from the blasting curses into bees. One of the auror pair had managed to burn the flying insects but not before the other had been stung into submission, his eyes swollen shut.

Harry snapped to attention the moment he noticed that the third auror had used his momentary lapse of attention to send five spells in the pattern of Mormont's cross, ensuring he could dodge no more than four.

Harry used a silent but overpowered _Accio _to quickly summon some of the rubble right into the path of one of the spells as he quickly dove into his newly created opening, smoothly rolling back up onto his feet as the spell's collision with the debris showered shrapnel all over him, cutting his face. He dodged around a few other spells, and noticed the second auror was almost finished healing up his fallen comrade.

_Summoning, _he thought as he magically dragged the rest of the rubble towards him, knocking over the second auror and interrupting his healing spell.

_And banishing. _He sent the rubble flying towards the third auror, who then shielded and banished it back towards Harry in one smooth motion. The moment it hit the ground, the debris coalesced into three large boa constrictors.

Harry grinned as he commanded them to attack the aurors with Parseltongue. As the snakes slithered away from Harry, his opponents froze up in momentary shock, giving Harry the opportunity to send another wave of earth, this time towards the lone auror (who Harry had deemed more dangerous).

The auror was buried under the tidal wave of dirt. Unfortunately, Harry had buried one of the snakes with the man.

The last auror had managed to transfigure the other two snakes into birds, and directed them towards Harry.

He just barely dodged one of them, while the other nicked his left shoulder with its beak. Harry couldn't help but be impressed when he noticed the birds had metallic claws and beaks.

He raised a block of earth for cover, and quickly transfigured the birds into cannon balls. "Gemino" he incanted hurriedly, and Harry suddenly found himself with four metal balls.

Harry quickly leapt out of the way of bright orange curses curving up and around his makeshift wall.

He flicked his wand twice, and two of his cannon balls flew towards the last auror, colliding with his shield with two dull thunks. Wasting no time, He transfigured the two balls into smoke.

Using his newfound cover, he flanked the auror who was too busy clearing the smoke to notice what he was doing. In the seconds it took him to succeed, Harry had summoned the remaining balls over to himself and transfigured one of them into a thick length of rope, and the other he sent careening towards his opponent, who barely managed to deflect it towards the ground.

That, however, ensured that he did not have enough time to deal with the animated rope Harry sent his way, which wrapped around him with the firmness of an anaconda.

Harry desperately gulped down air as he collapsed onto his knees, each and every one of his limbs shaking.

He noticed Proudfoot heal the swollen auror, and moved to free the one buried under the dirt.

The last snake, however, didn't seem very appreciative of being exposed as it lunged towards the decorated auror. With lightning fast reflexes, he vanished the reptile.

Once he ensured that the junior auror was relatively uninjured, he revived him with a well-practiced _renervate_.

"Sir…" Harry's last opponent pleaded, "This rope is really tight…"

Proudfoot rolled his eyes and freed the man with a huff. "Stand at attention." He ordered quietly.

The trio stood with backs ramrod straight, and Harry sheathed his wand as he moved to join them, his legs protesting every step of the way.

"You three lost to one wizard, what did you do wrong?" Proudfoot demanded, his severe features arranging themselves into a scowl.

There was a pregnant pause until the one with dirt in his hair lifted a shaky hand. "I used snakes against a well known parseltongue…"

"And why would you do that?" Harry's instructor bit out. Harry winced and focused on the top of Proudfoot's crew cut, finding it rather difficult to look at the unadulterated venom present on the senior auror's face.

"I panicked, sir. It was the first animal transfiguration I thought of."

"You panicked." Proudfoot's voice dropped an octave. "And you," he said, turning to face the auror on the far right, "Auror Hennessey. Why would you use a blasting curse instead of a vanishing charm when you knew that trainee Potter was specifically instructed to use object based magic exclusively?"

His voice slowly started increasing in volume. "Your mistake gave Potter all the ammunition he needed to fight you lot!"

"I-I thought- it was the first spell I thought of!"

"First spell you thought of? Pathetic" he muttered as Hennessey slowly hunched over in shame.

"And auror McLaggen, how the hell did you get taken out by a bunch of _bees_ so quickly?!" Proudfoot was yelling now, his grey eyes narrowed in burning rage.

"I didn't have time to react sir-"

"Damn right you didn't have time to react! You were too busy going through the motions of your bunker buster hex to be anything more than utterly useless. What?" Proudfoot snarled, "did you think you could take out Potter with one flashy spell?!"

The auror looked down, his eye still a little bit swollen.

"Utterly embarrassing… I have half a mind to put you on probation and assign you to retraining."

Proudfoot paced back and forth, his arms clasped behind him as he muttered what Harry imagined were unspeakably vile things. He finally stopped and addressed the aurors. "The three of you lost to a trainee. Absolutely mortifying." He shook his head one more time before he made a shooing motion with his left hand, "Dismissed".

The three auror limped away, presumably to lick their wounds. Proudfoot waited for the door to close behind them before he addressed Harry. "I wasn't aware that Parseltongue was object based magic, trainee Potter."

Harry, who finally had recovered enough to speak, said, " Parseltongue is such a rare ability that it hasn't been classified yet. For all we know, it could be an object-based magic. Sir," he added quickly before he received yet another lecture on respecting rank.

Proudfoot raised a brow, "But that's not why you used it, is it?"

Harry knew that brutal honesty was best when dealing with Proudfoot, at least in the long term. "No sir, I just saw snakes and commanded them on instinct."

Proudfoot stared at him for a while, and Harry fought not to fidget under his scrutiny. _Man's almost as terrifying as Voldemort._

The senior auror nodded, "Good thing it worked out for you then. Tell me, if Hennessey had vanished a portion of your _Geb's Grumble_, instead of blasting a hole into it, what would you have done?"

Harry answered immediately, "All spells damage physical substances after a certain threshold of magical exposure had been reached, meaning that there would have been some debris as a result of spells impacting the ground."

Proudfoot made a _go-on _motion with his hand.

"So I probably would have dodged as many of the curses as I could, summoning debris into the path of spells as required. Once enough transfiguration material had been accumulated, I would have transfigured all of it into pigeons and used the confusion to start going through the motions of Jupiter's grasp-"

"Your distraction would have approximately bought you three to five seconds of time. Can you cast Jupiter's grasp that quickly?"

Harry nodded tersely, feeling annoyance build up in "You know that I can sir, I did it last week."

"I suppose I do know that yes. I remember being most impressed. How long can you maintain the spell? It's quite draining." He was smiling, Harry noticed, _the sadistic bastard was smiling!_

"Around thirty seconds."

Proudfoot looked faintly impressed. "Would that be enough?"

"Yes sir."

Proudfoot nodded, an approving look upon his face for once. "A decent strategy. Last question then, why did I limit you to object manipulating spells?"

"Most object manipulating spells aren't often used by wizards because of the somewhat high level of skill they require to be used in a timely manner. You wanted to test if I could successfully integrate a rarely used, and therefore useful, part of magic into my combat style." Harry felt pretty satisfied with his answer, and allowed a small smile to work its way onto his face.

"Half-point, Potter." Harry's face fell as Proudfoot shook his head, "The other reason, is that all creatures, magical or not, can be taken out through using physical objects. A giant," he lifted a bony finger, "is resistant to magic, but an enlarged spear through its gut will kill it just about as well as anything else can."

Harry nodded in acknowledgement, silently praying that Proudfoot was almost finished so he could take a shower. His dark red Auror robes were wet and smelled of sweat and blood.

Proudfoot looked at him appraisingly, "Once you have showered, study whatever you like until I come collect you. You are dismissed Potter."

Harry walked over to the door, and just as he touched the doorknob he heard Proudfoot call his name.

Feeling cold leaden dread sink into the pit of his stomach, he turned. "Yes, sir?"

As quick as thought, Proudfoot's wand flicked out towards Harry and he spat out a "_Scourgify_!"

Harry hissed in pain, as the wounds on his face and shoulder were magically scrubbed raw.

"And that, Potter, is for not immediately healing your injuries once the battle was over," He flicked his wand again and the cuts on Harry's body were sealed shut. "Be grateful all I did was Scourgify your wounds, I could have done worse."

Harry quietly grumbled as he slinked off to the showers, ruing the day he had met Corvus Proudfoot.

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Harry stretched out on the sofa in the auror's lounge, groaning at the pleasurable pain he felt with every exertion of his body. He wondered if he should work on his warding theory, or if he should work on his occulemency.

After a few moments' deliberation, he decided that some occulomency practice wouldn't hurt. After all, occulomency helped one with remembering spells and maintaining a precise control over one's magic.

Just as he closed his eyes and entered a meditative trance, the door to the lounge opened with a loud bang, startling Harry back into reality.

"Potter," Proudfoot said, an uncharacteristically nervous expression adorning his face, "get up, hurry, you're on duty."

Harry's heart leaped at the thought of his first assignment. "What is it sir?"

"Diagon Alley is under attack." Proudfoot tossed a Pepper-up potion over to Harry, which he quickly downed.

There was a pregnant pause.

"Who's attacking?" Harry enquired, as they briskly walked towards the floo.

Proudfoot shifted nervously, "That's the thing, it's a what, not a who, and we have no clue what it is."

Harry gulped in anticipation.

Post-edit AN: Hopefully the chapter is actually readable now. Sorry for the inconvenience. Chapter one is coming soon!


	2. Chapter 1: Dancing with the Devil

I don't own anything, JK Rowling owns everything, including you, me, and the world we inhabit. All hail Dread God Rowling!

**Chapter 1: Dancing with the Devil**

Harry heard the screams the moment he stepped out of the fireplace in the Diagon Alley's auror outpost. The scent of smoke and burning flesh nearly made him gag. Green fire flashed behind him, and Proudfoot stepped out of the floo.

"Potter," he said, his voice trembling almost imperceptibly, "There are already three other pairs of aurors keeping the threat occupied. They are located in the main square, in front of Gringott's bank. A team of rapid response Hit-Wizards has already evacuated the area. Our job is to contain the threat, preferably keeping the thing alive for study, but that's not a priority. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, "Yes sir."

"Good, stay close."

The pair stepped out of the building and into Diagon Alley proper, watching the buildings around them burn with unnaturally orange flames. They started running toward the Goblin Bank and Harry felt a potent terror grow in his chest with every step he took. "Sir, why aren't there more Aurors here?"

"This isn't the only place under attack," he looked at Harry out of the corner of his eyes, "it's why you're here, almost everyone else has already been deployed."

The most discordant sound Harry had ever heard rang through the ruined wizarding settlement, a cross between the roar of lion and the squeaking of nails on chalkboard. "We're near," said Proudfoot, wincing in pain.

They rounded the corner and Harry thought his heart would burst out of his chest. The marble steps of Gringott's were decorated with corpses and painted red with blood. The stench of sulfur and burnt flesh was cloying, and the _beast_…

It was at least six meters tall, a monstrosity with cloven goat hoofs and the head of a ram that rested atop a hairy humanoid chest. Wings as dark as midnight protruded from its back and were wrapped around its body like a feathered bath towel. Its forked tongue flickered out of sight as sickly orange flames spewed out of its mouth and devoured an auror. His high-pitched screams rang out across Diagon.

The thing turned its attention to the lone Auror left in the Main Square, and Harry and Proudfoot quickly stepped in to help.

Harry shot a chain of powerful exploding curses at the creature, gaping in shock when the spell-light was absorbed into the thing's skin, leaving his target unmarked. It turned a snake-eyed gaze towards Harry, and he knew, felt it in the marrow of his bones; this thing was not natural, not of this world. It was an _abomination_ that _did not belong_.

It flew towards Harry, a demonic missile intent on crushing the auror trainee into a fine red pulp. Harry barely managed to roll out of its way and spin to face it. He heard Proudfoot cast, and saw his spells impact its back to no avail.

"Spells don't do anything," the only surviving auror told them as the monster turned back towards them. Her left arm hung limply at her side, and she was bleeding from a nasty looking gash that spanned her forehead.

"Avis," Harry incanted, adding a quick Stymphalian wand motion to the end his spell. Eagles with silver claws and beaks sprouted into existence out of the air around him. They circled the beast, which eyed them suspiciously.

Proudfoot summoned some of the surrounding rubble and sent it flying towards the monster, transfiguring it into spears as they flew. It swatted them away, but in doing so created an opening that Harry exploited by making his birds dive-bomb the creature. He smiled when the birds' claws left gashes, through which a viscous black liquid seeped through, dripping onto the ground with a hiss.

The monster incinerated the eagles with a mighty cry and charged the Aurors with blinding speed. Harry had managed to dodge it, however the Auror behind him wasn't so lucky. The beast grabbed her as she tried to sidestep and crushed her torso with a sickening crunch. It tossed her now lifeless body into a burnt down Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

_George,_ Harry thought as cold dread washed over him.

The creature roared once more and charged towards Proudfoot prompting Harry into quickly casting _Geb's Grumble_ and sending a massive wave of earth towards it. The earthen tide knocked it off course, and the aurors did not waste the opportunity.

Harry and Proudfoot quickly started transfiguring wolves, eagles, and jaguars out of the rubble around them, which the creature immediately dispatched of, tearing them apart with its colossal hands, or incinerating them with its unholy fire. It even speared a few particularly unfortunate jaguars with its horns.

Seeing this wasn't working, Harry decided to change tactics. He swished and flicked, and a large wooden beam floated up and hit the demon on its head. As the thing burned the oversized club, he noticed that Proudfoot sent a few small rocks flying at towards it. Harry cast an overpowered duplication charm, turning a few rocks into a veritable hailstorm of stone bullets. They pierced through the abomination, creating a multitude of wounds in the process.

And yet the wounds healed as quickly as they formed, leaving the creature unharmed and significantly angrier than it was before. The terror in Harry's breast flared as bright as the unholy flame that surrounded him.

It breathed fire towards the two wizards, and Proudfoot responded by raising a wall out of the earth in front of them. He conjured a few birds and sent them to distract the creature. "Potter," he gasped, "Jupiter's grasp. I'll cover you."

Harry nodded his understanding. As his mentor sent the earthen wall flying towards the creature, Harry started casting.

Jupiter's grasp was a simple spell in theory but was difficult to utilize in any combat situation due to its sheer impracticality. In basic terms, it was the equivalent of a _Wingardium Leviosa_ cast on every single air particle in a quarter-kilometer radius, which allowed the caster complete control of the air around them. Maintaining it would not allow for the usage of other spells and casting it required moving one's wand in a complicated series of swishes and flicks while remaining immobile.

Harry could complete casting the spell in around 5 seconds, which didn't sound like much, but was the equivalent of an eternity in arcane combat.

_5_

The creature roared and charged Proudfoot, who had moved away from Harry after his opening salvo.

_4_

Proudfoot sent a barrage of rubble at the thing, but chunks of wood and stone crashed against the creature to no effect.

_3_

It swung a meaty fist at Proudfoot, who rolled under it and conjured a gust of wind that pushed it back a tiny distance.

_2_

It breathed fire, forcing the senior auror to cast a shield charm due to the monsters close range.

_1_

The monster's fist smashed through Proudfoot's shield, sending him flying into Eyelop's Owl Emporium. It turned its gaze towards Harry and started its approach, charging towards him with a mighty roar.

_0_

Harry swung his wand in a wide arc and the demon was blasted off course, smashing into Madame Malkin's.

Jupiter's Grasp was an infamously draining spell, which meant he didn't have much time to kill the creature. He had to act, _now_!

The demon quickly picked itself back up and expelled a gout of demonic flame from its gaping maw. Harry slashed his wand downward, and the air directly in front of him coalesced into a near opaque barrier. The flames crashed into the shield and Harry felt magical exhaustion creeping up on him. Something needed to change, or he wouldn't last much longer.

Using the cover the flames provided him, Harry ducked behind a large bit of debris right before he heard a roar and the creature tore through his barrier as if it were wet paper. Harry, in a fit of desperation, stabbed his wand downwards with vicious intent.

The creature was crushed to the ground as all the air its immediate vicinity pressed down up on it. It let out a weak roar.

Harry, with herculean effort, stabbed downwards once again, and the monster was crushed into a black paste, dissolving the ground below it. A few drops of the tar-like liquid had splashed into his mouth, numbing it_._

The trainee auror stood up and stumbled towards Eyelop's with the intent of making sure Proudfoot was alive. He took one shaky step, and the world spun around him. He took another and the edges of his vision turned black.

He collapsed before he could finish his third.

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"He would have died if I hadn't-" said a feminine sounding voice, an element of desperation tingeing her rather pleasant alto.

"No, Greengrass, no! No more excuses. You cannot simply use whatever method you see fit!" A man shouted, giving Harry a rather painful headache.

Harry shifted upon the rather hard bed he was laying on and groaned as he opened his eyes. He grimaced when he saw the whole world as nothing but a blurry white blob. "Glasses," he rasped out, and his throat _burned_.

There was a pause.

"Yes Mr. Potter," came the feminine voice. Harry heard footsteps, then the opening of a door.

"Mr. Potter," started the male voice, his gruff tone making Harry wince. "You are very lucky to be alive at this very moment, much less conscious in such a timely fashion."

"I don't feel that lucky right now." Harry coughed out.

"Well," the man scoffed, "considering that there was an unknown fluid wreaking havoc upon your body, and you had damn near no magic to fight it off, I'd say you were very lucky."

The door opened, and the woman announced her return, "Your glasses, Mr. Potter."

"Well, Healer Greengrass will make sure to answer any questions you have. Your emergency contact, a Ms. Molly Weasley, has already been informed of your condition. Unfortunately, she left when visitation hours ended an hour ago and so you will see her tomorrow at the earliest. Get well, Mr. Potter." Harry heard the man leave and shut the door behind him with a soft click.

He felt a pair of small soft hands slide the cool metal of his glasses onto his face. The world snapped into focus, and he found himself staring into a mesmerizing pair of deep brown eyes. Shoulder length blonde hair framed her sharp, aristocratic features. Her hands lingered on Harry's face and where they touched his face, he felt a warmth bloom like roses in spring.

She suddenly jerked back, and her high cheekbones were tinged a cherry red. "Hello Mr. Potter, I'm Healer Daphne Greengrass and I am in charge of your care until you are fit to leave St. Mungo's. You are quite lucky that-"

"Yeah," Harry rasped out, a lopsided grin upon his visage, "I've heard. I still have no idea why I feel like I've swallowed _Fiendfyre_."

Healer Greengrass conjured a glass and pointed her wand into it. "_Aquamenti_," she murmured, and water trickled into the glass. She handed it to Harry, who greedily gulped the soothingly cool liquid.

"Now, Mr. Potter," began the Healer, her full lips moving mesmerizingly as she carefully enunciated her words, "I am required to inform you that the Aquamenti spell does not follow Gamp's law, as the water it conjures is not conjured, but rather summoned from a random body of clean fresh water."

Harry wiped the water that was dripping down his chin with his sleeve. He noticed his robes were as white as his walls and bed. "Didn't we learn that in Hogwarts…" he replied as he looked around the room. Everything in the room was white, and other than the bed, a bedside table, and a strange mirror that reflected a slightly distorted image of the room, it was completely bare.

The blonde shot him an approving look, "most people forget what we learned in Hogwarts, sir."

Harry's piercing green eyes snapped onto the young Healer. Despite the presence of her green Healer's robes, Harry could tell she had a wonderfully full hourglass figure. She stood ramrod straight, her arms behind her back.

He looked around the room once more and saw that there were two doors. "Harry."

"Err, sorry?" He looked back at Daphne and saw she was looking at him with a rather adorably confused expression.

"Call me Harry. We were in the same year in Hogwarts after all, weren't we Daphne?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

She smiled softly at him, "Yes we were si- I mean Harry."

Harry smiled back, "Although that still doesn't explain why my throat feels like a firewhiskey distillery."

"Ah, right," she took a deep breath, "you had some sort of poisonous residue in your blood stream, presumably it originated from that… thing you fought in Diagon Alley."

"You know about that? How long was I asleep?" Harry asked, his eyebrows crawling to hairline.

"Three days, it was in the prophet" she responded shortly, her brows furrowed in annoyance, "If I could continue…"

"Go on." Harry gestured with a flippant flick of his wrist.

"Yes well, you were suffering magical exhaustion so your intrinsic magic couldn't neutralize the effects," Harry's eyes were drawn to her pretty pink lips, before he quickly caught himself and forced himself to look into her bark-brown eyes.

"And there was no antidote at hand, obviously, and so I decided that a magical infusion was your best chance at survival." She looked down, and Harry noticed she brought her hands together and started fiddling with them.

"That still doesn't explain my throat…"

"Well," she gulped, and Harry's eyes flitted down to her unblemished neck, "our larynxes contain a major arkamice, one of the major glands that allow us to control magic and store it within our bodies." That was also the reason that one must vocalize spells in order to cast them, and a major part of silent casting (which was a requirement to even get into the auror training program) is activating that gland without vocalization.

Harry noticed she was studying his Adam's apple rather intently. "I had to channel magic into it directly in order to replenish your supply of magic quick enough to neutralize the substance in your body."

Harry smiled warmly at her, "I suppose I have you to thank for my life then." She looked down at her feet and scuffed her shoes. "But you don't seem very proud of that fact…"

Daphne winced, "It's just that…" Harry looked at her encouragingly, "Well, it's an untested treatment, you know? So, I wasn't exactly supposed to…"

Harry suddenly felt a sudden sense of understanding click into place "Use it. That's also what the argument I heard was about wasn't it. I guess he's your boss?" He asked, but it wasn't really a question.

She gave a quick nod. "Heard that did you?"

An awkward silence filled the air.

Suddenly, Daphne scowled, and words rushed out of her mouth at a break-neck pace. "Well what was I supposed to do?! Let you die? I knew it would work, I had it figured out, and I wouldn't let some stupid protocol-"

Harry raised his palms in a gesture of surrender. "Hey, I'm not complaining. You saved my life after all, right?"

Her chest heaved as she breathed heavily. There was a second's pause. "It's just…" She took a deep breath to collect herself; "I spent my entire childhood dreaming of becoming a Healer, using and pioneering the development of new treatments, saving lives…" Her lips pressed against one another and her brows bunched together, "I didn't expect all this useless bureaucracy, I guess."

Her upper lip curled in annoyance, "Especially when I know what I'm doing!"

Harry raised his arms in surrender, "Well, I'm grateful you do Daphne. Not that I would be alive to be ungrateful if you didn't."

She rolled her eyes and laughed a tinkling, delicate laugh.

Suddenly she snorted.

She quickly covered her mouth and Harry's laughter rang across the room.

She blushed, "Stop laughing," She said, attempting to sound stern, although the upward curl of her lips rather ruined the effect.

Once their laughter died down, Harry asked, "Has a George Weasley checked in? And how is Corvus Proudfoot?" He felt a writhing sense of guilt snake its way into his stomach_. That's the first thing I should have asked…_

"We haven't admitted a George Weasley as far as I know. And Proudfoot was discharged yesterday, to my knowledge. He only had a few broken bones, although Healer Weyland, a friend of mine in the physical trauma department, told me that healing his vertebrae was quite difficult. But he's been discharged and will make a perfect recovery. He was better than you in any case."

Harry felt relief warm his entire being, "Speaking of discharge…"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "The bathroom is through that door," she said, pointing to the door closest to his bed.

Harry's eyes widened until they resembled porcelain plates, "What, no! I meant when can I leave."

Daphne laughed her wonderful laugh once more. "I'm only joking Potter, no need to get flustered. In 10 hours, so tomorrow morning if there are no further complications tonight. Minister Shacklebolt left a message. Apparently, he expects you to visit as soon as you are able. Preferably tomorrow at 8."

Harry raised a brow, "No rest for the wicked, it seems."

Daphne smiled at him, "Quite. Speaking of which, I need to go. If you need anything, shout into that Monitoring Mirror over there. It'll also be monitoring your vitals, so don't worry being left alone."

Harry grinned and settled into the mildly uncomfortable bed. "Right then," he said, closing his eyes, "Thank you, Daphne. Goodnight."

He heard her mutter "_Nox_," and the room darkened. Her soft footsteps crossed the room, and right before she left the room, she quietly said, "I'd like it if you kept our conversation between us, Harry. A healer is not supposed to bad mouth… you know…"

"Yeah, yeah. Of course."

"Thank you. Goodnight Harry."

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After informing Mrs. Weasley that he was fine via stag _Patronus_, he used St. Mungo's floo to travel directly into the ministry of magic. He stumbled out of the fireplace, barely managing to keep his balance. He looked around the atrium and once again marvelled at how little the hall had changed.

The ceiling was still made of a turquoise stone and was inlaid with gold, ever-changing symbols. The walls and floor were still the deep black they were before, but where there was once wood, there was now marble. Opposite him there were people lining up in front of gilded fireplaces, waiting their turn to use the floo and depart.

The Fountain of Magical Brethren had been remade and replaced, although now the witch, wizard, centaur, goblin and house-elf stood back to back, as if they were surrounded by enemies and were ready for a fight. Glittering threads of water flew up from the golden wands that the witch and wizard were wielding, as well as from the tip of the goblin's pointy hat, the centaur's nocked arrow and the house-elf's kitchen knife.

As Harry turned left and passed the fountain, he couldn't help but smile a bit. Minister Shacklebolt had it commissioned as a gesture of gratitude to the other magical races for their assistance against Voldemort, and it served as a reminder that _they had won_.

Harry rushed into one of the elevators across the hall and just managed to reach it before it left. He pressed the button for level 1 and leaned against one of the lift's metal walls.

"Potter," he heard a man say. His voice was slightly high-pitched and had an undercurrent of snobbishness to it. Unfortunately, Harry knew the owner of the voice rather well.

"Malfoy," Harry responded with a curt nod. The elevator felt uncomfortable as the awkward silence pressed down on them like vapor on a humid day. Draco Malfoy looked much the same as he did during his Hogwarts days, but his robes weren't of the same caliber and his posture seemed… less. Somehow.

A cool androgynous voice had announced that the elevator had stopped on level 4, the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, which prompted Malfoy into leaving so swiftly that he was gone before the elevator's door had fully opened.

It wasn't long until that same disembodied voice informed Harry that he was now on level 1, Offices for Ministerial Heads and Administrative Staff. Harry exited the elevator and made his way towards the Minister's office.

As he pushed open the oaken doors to the waiting area, he smiled and waved at the secretary. "Astoria, how are you?"

The petite blonde looked up from whatever document she was examining and beamed up at him. "As good as ever, Harry. I hear you met my sister yesterday. Made quite an impression too," she said, an impish smile beginning to grow on her face.

"Yeah, I did. A good impression, I hope?" Harry asked as he scratched the nape of his neck.

Her grey eyes shone as her smile turned predatory, "A very good one, Harry. You don't need to worry about that, I think."

"Good," Harry laughed shakily, "She is the reason I'm able to be here in the first place, after all."

Astoria stood up and put her hands on her thin hips. She looked very much like her elder sister but was taller (almost as tall as Harry in fact), much thinner and lacked the curves Daphne had. Despite all that, there was a certain warmth in her aura that drew people in.

"I'm sure that's the only reason…" she tutted before giving him a hug. "I'm glad you're safe Harry. Draco would be sooo disappointed if you weren't."

Harry stepped back, smiling the entire time. "I still have no clue what you see in him."

"Oh, he's got his good points," She drew her wand, but Harry beat her to the punch, his _Patronus_ already flying through the wooden door leading to the Minister's office. She scowled at him, "I can cast my own spells, Harry."

He sent a lop-sided grin at her in response. "So can I. Unless you're implying I can't…"

She huffed exasperatedly, a fond smile on her face. "I can see why you and Daphne got along." The door to the Minister's office opened. "That's your cue. Good luck!"

Harry nodded as he stepped past her desk and entered the office. It was more modest than it was during Fudge's tenure, with only an oaken desk and cupboard, as well as a couple of plain seats present as furniture, but it was all the more elegant for it.

Harry saw a photograph of the Order of the Phoenix as it was during his fifth year among the pictures that decorated the minister's desk. Harry smiled fondly when he saw Sirius waving and jumping up and down like a total loon.

Minister Shacklebolt stood up and firmly shook Harry's hand, the black skin of his hand contrasting starkly with the color of Harry's pale fingers. "I hope you're better, Harry," he said warmly. As his towering frame slid back into his chair, he gestured Harry to sit across him.

"I'm fine Minister, although my throat still burns a bit," he responded as he rubbed his neck.

"A side-effect of your treatment, I've heard. My secretary's sister healed you, if I'm not mistaken."

Harry nodded, "You're well informed, Minister."

Minister Shacklebolt's brown eyes warmed as he looked on Harry. "Must I always remind you, Harry? In private it's Kingsley. To you and all those that fought alongside us in the Blood-War."

Harry smiled in response, "Thank you, Kingsley. How is running the Ministry treating you, so far?"

Kingsley gave a tired laugh as he rubbed as his eyes with the heels of his palms, "The past year has been okay, actually. Apparently being the first legitimate Minister in a long time gives you plenty of room for error. That was until four days ago…" He sighed and glanced at the door. "We'll discuss that matter further when Head Auror Proudfoot arrives."

Harry's brows crawled up his forehead, "He got promoted? When?"

The Minister grimaced, "When Head Auror McGargan was killed in Diagon Alley. A few minutes before you had arrived, apparently.

Harry felt his stomach spin, a plane turning and crashing into the ground. "I'm so sorry, Kingsley. If I had been a bit quicker…"

The tall man narrowed his eyes, "Don't be an idiot. You killed the gods forsaken thing-"

The door to the office banged open as Corvus Proudfoot barged in. Harry could see Astoria sheepishly grinning behind him as she closed with door with a barely audible click.

His entire body was covered in bandages and so was half his face. Not bandaged enough to hide his virulent scowl, however. "Is director McLane coming?" he barked out as he slid into the chair next to Harry.

"No Corvus, she's not," Kingsley sighed out "You haven't changed a bit since I trained you, have you?"

"It's 8 in the morning King, and I'm injured and tired and fed up with the taste of Skele-Gro! Let's get to the point of this meeting."

"Very well," said Kingsley as he shook his head, "A quick report first, I think. Four days ago, around three in the afternoon, unidentified beings started appearing in magically dense areas all over Britain.

"Hogsmeade was attacked by three creatures. They were hybrids, men with goat legs. Similar to fauns of Roman myth. They were stopped with one casualty, a junior auror. I received an identical report from Godric's Hollow, although two aurors had been killed there, as did Griselda Marchbanks," Kingsley's brown eyes closed and his jaw visibly clenched.

Harry winced, and even Proudfoot looked down. Nearly everyone in magical Britain had been tested by her at some point for their OWLs or NEWTs.

He took a deep breath and continued, "All reports confirm that they moved incredibly fast, that they had a monstrous strength, and that most spells were effective against the creatures, the exception being the one you two faced," His eyes shot up and he leveled a piercing look at the men in front of him, "You two are the only survivors of the attack on Diagon Alley. Besides the ineffectiveness of standard spells against your foe, the only thing that I know about what happened there is that there were twenty two civilian casualties, forty nine if you include goblins, and 12 aurors had died."

There was a pregnant pause that seemed deafening to Harry. He shared a glance with Proudfoot. "Potter, get your memory out."

Proudfoot gestured with his wand and a stone bowl burst out of the cupboard that was behind the minister. He directed the bowl onto the desk with a gentle gesture of his wand, being careful not to spill the glowing silver tinted liquid inside.

Harry put the tip of his wand in his ear and a blue wisp of light stuck to its end as Harry pulled it back out. He flicked his wand toward the bowl, and the memory slowly floated into it.

"Will anyone accompany me into the pensieve?" Shacklebolt asked as he leaned towards the bowl.

"No, King. Just you," Proudfoot sharply responded. The minister nodded and stuck his head into the silver liquid.

The Minister's office was silent, but not awkwardly so. The silence was one that spoke of thought and rumination.

"Potter," Proudfoot said, an undercurrent of softness in his voice, "Good job. You've made me proud."

Harry's head bowed as his hands reached up to grab it, looking as if weights had been attached to his skull. "Thank you, sir, … I just think that..." His jaw clenched, "If I had been better, stronger-"

"Harry," Proudfoot interrupted, a softness growing in his eyes "If you hadn't been there, I would have died, and Diagon Alley would have been flattened." His eyes quickly hardened once more, "Aurors aren't supposed to say dumb shit like that. If I catch you being a moron again, I'll send you up against five opponents for training."

Kingsley withdrew his head from the pensieve as massive gasps escaped his lips. Harry dried him off with a quick spell. "Well," he said with a small grin, "good news at last."

"Bugger off, King," Proudfoot snarled, "what good news is there?"

The Minister chuckled, "Harry put too much power into his Stymphalian wand movement, which is something I'd normally scold you for," he said as he mockingly shook his finger at him. "However, your minor mistake lead to your conjured birds having silver claws, not steel ones."

"Kingsley?" Harry asked as one of his eyebrows slowly rose like a caterpillar on a leaf.

"The wound it gave the demon, it didn't heal!"

As Harry though back on the battle, he felt excitement bubble up in his chest. "You're right! Merlin's beard you're right!"

"That is good news," Proudfoot said, "but a reliable way to fight off the creatures isn't enough information. What are they? Will they return? How do we stop them permanently if they do?"

Kingsley Shacklebolt nodded, "Good questions. There is a library somewhere in magical Italy that holds the answers to these questions." Kingsley winced, "or held I suppose."

"What happened to it?" Harry asked

Proudfoot groaned and shut his eyes as if he were in pain. "The Domum Dei..."

"Sorry, the what?"

Kingsley, who had a similarly pained look on his face, said, "During Voldemort's first rise, we were on a taskforce for the International Confederation of Wizards. One of our assignments was stop a raid on the Domum carried out by Voldemort and his inner circle. It was one of our biggest failures..."

"The books there were ancient," Proudfoot continued, "One of a kind. I remember being told about a section for otherworldly entities while we were being briefed," he shook his head, "That entire section is gone now."

The silence was palpable as the Minister and Head Auror shared a pained look.

"So, there's nothing we really know then?" Harry asked, a cold dread settling in his gut.

"Nothing," Kingsley responded, "That brings us to why you're here, Harry."

"Sorry?" Harry asked, squinting with confusion.

"You've been promoted to Auror, congratulations."

Harry's eyes widened, "What-but-I'm not even a junior auror yet!"

Proudfoot started laughing, "And you've been granted the rank of Unspeakable Hawk, make it count Potter."

"What-bu-I-"

"And of course, you are aware of the privileges the rank brings," Kinsley continued, "A high salary, almost complete operational freedom, and a personal budget to be used in the completion of the tasks we assign you."

"Although the tasks you will be assigned," Proudfoot cut in with a severe frown upon his visage, "will be very dangerous and difficult, and will often take you out of Britain. You also won't be assigned a partner."

Kingsley winced, "not that we have the manpower to spare…"

Harry looked down, a strange mixture of shame and pride swirling viciously in his gut. "I'm honored, but I don't think I'm good enough-"

"Not good enough!?" Kingsley's baritone boomed across the room, "Harry, you're one of the most skilled wizards in the whole auror corps!"

"But I'm just a trainee, sir…" Harry kept his gaze firmly fixed upon the table between him and the minister.

There was a moment of silence.

"Well," Proudfoot started, "Considering keeping you as a trainee for an unprecedented amount of time was your moronic idea King, you can explain why he was held back."

"It was the best course of action and you-"

Proudfoot stood and slammed his hand onto the table, a scowl visible through the folds of his bandages, "Bugger off you filthy politician! TELL HIM! Tell him why we constantly held back one our most talented. Own up to your actions," he slid back into his seat, although the venom in his expression hadn't abated a single bit. "Unless a cushy desk job has turned you craven…"

Kingsley bit the inside of his lip as he stared at his lap, "I'm the Minister, you can't…" he sighed, and his shoulders sagged. He looked remarkably like a deflated balloon. "You're right,"

"The truth is, Harry, you could have become a junior auror mere weeks after you joined the corps. You certainly had the combat skill for it. You only really needed to learn about the laws that would bind you and work a bit on your disguise and concealment."

Harry's eyes widened, "Why was I…"

Kingsley continued talking, seemingly unaware of Harry' s interruption. "You know, of course, that we required prospective aurors to take their NEWTs before they applied for the program. That was a cover up," Kingsley looked into directly into Harry's eyes. Fatigue flowed out of Kingsley's pupils and into his sclera, leaving red rivers in their wake.

"Really, we accepted any applicant into the Auror corps. We desperately needed to pad out their ranks. But the NEWTs would have served as a good reason to reject your application… Unfortunate that your scores were phenomenal. Surpassed even our old requirements, which meant that you would know that we rejected _you_ specifically," Kingsley's lip curled upwards, forming a grotesque hybrid of annoyed scowl and fond smile.

"I couldn't exactly risk you raising a stink. Especially considering I was only interim Minister at the time."

Harry felt numbness flood down his head and into his body, a chilling cold killing any sensation he might have felt otherwise. Kingsley was his friend, right? They fought side-by-side, hadn't they? "Why…"

"Because you never were just another potential auror," Proudfoot interrupted, his scathing tone cutting Kingsley off, "You were also the Boy-Who-Lived. The-Man-Won. Harry 'The-Chosen-One' Potter."

Kingsley glared at Proudfoot, "Corvus, enough." The Head Auror's jaw clenched, but he stayed silent. Kingsley's gaze flitted toward Harry before he continued.

"Being an auror is dangerous and comes with a high risk of death. Having you die under my administration would be disastrous. People would be calling for my head and the heads of those directly below me in the auror department. Having you complain about the newly-rebuilt ministry would be even worse."

He tried arranging his features into a sheepish smile, but something about it reminded Harry of a rotten core in a seemingly fresh apple. "So, I decided to keep you as trainee for a long period of time. Overtraining you, making you strong enough to defend against anything that might oppose you," His tone and cadence shifted, adopting an air of magnanimousness, "Of course, you would only have been assigned to the most risk-free cases. After a while, you would have been promoted to a cushy managerial position where you would have been safe from harm,"

He leaned forward and looked deeply into Harry's bright green eyes, "Your safety was always in mind Harry. You mean a great deal to many people, including myself."

His thick fingers tapped against the oaken desk and for the first time it occurred to Harry that Kingsley probably had information on various people locked in there. Important people. _Blackmail…_

He wondered if this side to Kingsley had always existed or if the expensive oaken desk he now sat behind perverted him.

Harry wanted to get angry, but all he felt was numb. And the worst part was that he sensed that Kingsley was telling the truth. Or not exactly lying. He had probably convinced himself that his actions were in Harry's best interest. Or both their best interests at any rate.

Kingsley Shacklebolt wasn't a bad man, in fact Harry would wager he was a good one. But he was a politician too.

Harry breathed out slowly. Then he breathed in. He centered himself, his occlumency drills coming into the forefront of his mind. "What now, sir?"

"Now…"

Proudfoot laughed, "Now he has no choice but to deploy you!" Harry didn't need to look at him to know he had a vicious smile on his face. "Congrats kid. You deserve it."

The Minister sighed and shook his head, "You never did curb your attitude, Proudfoot. Still the same whelp I trained all those years ago I see…"

"To what end?" Corvus spat out, "So I could be 'promoted' into sitting behind an oak desk all day? I think not, sir." He dragged out the honorific, a mocking lilt in his voice.

Kingsley smile turned strained. "The circumstances have changed," he said, addressing Harry, "Dangerous forces now threaten us, and there is no one more qualified to investigate these forces than you are, as your performance in Diagon Alley has shown. It seems my plans of keeping you safe has backfired spectacularly."

"Your assignment, Auror Potter, is to find out everything you can about these creatures. Their origin, motive, weaknesses, anything and everything. To that end, you will be supplied with 2,000 galleons per month. You are authorized to do anything in your power to accomplish this goal, up to and including the infiltration of other magical governments. You report either to the Head Auror or to me directly. Understood?"

Harry nodded, steely determination filling his entire being.

"Dismissed, Unspeakable Potter."

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Harry had picked up his dusty auror guidebook the moment he had apparated into his flat. He sat down on his rickety chair in front of his cramped pinewood desk, flipped over to the relevant page and got to reading.

_The Ministry's Unspeakable department was first formed under the orders of the Mage-King Druidach as a branch of the Magus Aurorae (which would later become the modern day aurors during Council-Elder Mares Black's reign) for the purposes of espionage and research into magical methods of warfare during the 13__th__ century._

_Although the Unspeakable department is still considered to be a sub-branch of the auror corps, the research portion of the Unspeakables is run with minimal interference by the auror corps. This includes their hiring practices. Therefore, an auror is unlikely to ever become a research unspeakable (Also called a Crow or an Unspeakable Crow). _

_On the other hand, the espionage portion of the unspeakable department is entirely made up of qualified aurors. It should be noted that while this sub-department was founded for the purpose of espionage, its members are now made up of powerful mages (referred to as special operatives) who are assigned the most dangerous assignments of the corps in addition to the intelligence operatives that were already members of the sub-branch. Members of the espionage corps are also referred to as Unspeakable Hawks. _

_If an auror wishes to join the Hawks as an intelligence operative, said auror must first achieve the rank of auror proper. Said auror must have Os in the aptitude tests listed at the end of this chapter and must have a letter of recommendation from the senior auror that supervised them during their junior aurorship. Said auror must also pass a series of psychological tests to prove that they are fit for duty. These are pre-requisites, but having them does not guarantee a spot within the Hawk Corps. _

_As the name implies, intelligence operatives report and gather information on agents set to harm Magical Britain, including non-magical entities. _

_If an auror wishes to become a special operative, said auror must first already be specialized in an auror field (Tracker, Warder, Curse-breaker, War Master, etc. {a complete list of specializations can be found in section 25 of this guidebook}), and must have proved themselves competent beyond measure of doubt. A recommendation from a Hawk and an exceptional track record is required to even be considered as a potential Hawk. _

_This rank can also be granted by high-ranking Ministry officials (such as the Minister, or DMLE head). This has only occurred 19 times in the history of the department._

_Special Operatives can be assigned a wide variety of assignments. The only common threads between all such assignments is that they are unspeakably dangerous. _

_The Vortigerns of the auror corps are-_

Harry stood up and stretched his legs. He started pacing around the room, slightly annoyed that he had no more of an idea as to what an Unspeakable actually does. He stopped in front of his desk and knelt so that he was eye level with the drawer that was part of its front-left leg.

He tugged on it a few times before it finally opened with a terrible squeal, one that reminded Harry of dying pigs. He paused as he picked up his bag of lemon sherbets, studying the white feathers that had been next to it.

Those feathers were the only thing he had left of her. They were still in her cage after the battle of the Seven Potters, and Harry couldn't bear the thought of throwing them away. His eyes prickled as he thought of her, how she would keep him company during his hellish stays in Private Drive…

He shut the drawer with a decisive snap, refusing to think on the matter any longer. He shoved his hand into the bag and took out one of the sour sweets. He unwrapped it slowly, enjoying the sound of the crinkling plastic covering unravelling as it slowly revealed the yellow candy within.

He let the wrapper drop onto the floor as he tossed the sherbet into his mouth. He let it melt slowly in his mouth while he bonelesly flopped onto his bed.

It was quite a shame that he discovered his taste for the sweets quite recently. He remembered how much his late headmaster loved these sweets, how often he would offer them to anyone he could. Harry never accepted one, although he regretted that dearly now. They were quite good after all.

Harry wished he had spent more time with the man in general. He always had a lot to teach, and Harry always had a lot to learn (he still does). That's not to say Harry had completely forgiven how he had often left him floundering in the dark, how he would send him back to the Dursleys summer after summer.

How he had left him when the Blood-War was at its worst.

But he did genuinely care for Harry. Or at least Harry thinks he did. After all, he made always made his plans with the intent of giving Harry the chance to be child (no matter how long ago that boat had sailed) and the best chance of survival.

And Harry did survive, despite being a Horcrux. Despite having to die, he came back.

Albus Dumbledore was a genius beyond compare, the kind of man who would only appear on this earth once, and it was his plan that had saved them all.

Harry often tried explaining that he wasn't the hero the wizarding world thought he was, that his parents had ended the first Blood War, and Dumbledore had ended the second. His complaints were always cast aside as a 'hero's modesty'.

But Harry knew the truth. Harry knew that he was a fraud, an imposter. He didn't deserve the headmaster's love or trust, didn't deserve to be kept safe by him.

He didn't deserve to be kept safe by Kingsley (although Harry could admit his motivations were slightly less altruistic).

He didn't deserve the Weasleys' love (Without him, the Weasley family would be whole)

The only thing he deserved was being put in danger time and time again, for the sake of others. To serve until his dying breath. So, what if teaching the D.A had made him happy, so what if the constant fighting made him miserable! The world needed Harry Potter to fight.

And fight he would.

Because if there was one thing Harry knew, it was-

Flame and heat flooded through his entire flat, bathing Harry's world in fire.

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AN: The first chapter of the story proper is up. Hope I didn't bugger up too badly. Hope you guys enjoy it and see you next month.


	3. Chapter 2: Forging Paths

AN: Here's a riddle for you guys, I don't have 'J.K Rowling' anywhere in my name, I'm in university and I'm pressed for time. Who am I?

Answer: Not J.K Rowling, owner of Harry Potter.

I know this update is super late, and I apologize for it. I know it's not really an excuse, but I've been having major assessment after major assessment (not even mentioning the minor ones) every week in university for the past two months leaving me extremely pressed for time. Apparently studying in med school is not conducive to creative writing, who would have thought?

While I may update late again, know that this story isn't getting dropped or going on hiatus anytime soon. The next chapter will come out, on time or not.

Again, I apologize for the delay, and hope to see you all next month (From Daphne's perspective this time)!

Post-AN note: The first chapter (not the prologue) has been edited for the sake of plot consistency. It's a fairly minor edit to Kingsley's dialogue, but it was an important edit to make I think.

Chapter2: Forging Paths

"Good morning Astoria" Harry said, yawning as he moved to lean on the secretary's wooden table.

"Morning," She replied, her voice an unusual monotone. "What can I do for you?"

"I have to see the Minister, it's about the investigation he has me doing and it is a little bit urgent."

"Well," she said without looking up, "He's in and not busy for another hour or so. You can head right in."

Harry squinted at her, "Er… right. Thank you." He walked over to the door behind her, and just as he was about to knock, he turned back around. "Astoria," He began, his speech halting as he hesitated.

"Yes," she sighed, and Harry couldn't help but be reminded of a deflating tire.

"Are you alright?"

She finally looked up and met Harry's eyes. Her grey irises normally resembled crackling storm clouds, but now they simply looked… drab. Like a shirt that had been washed one time too many.

"Yeah," she replied, "I'm fine. It's just my sister-"

"Daphne, right?"

She nodded, "She's lost her job."

Harry's brows shot up. He couldn't imagine anyone firing someone who was as passionate about their profession as he remembered Daphne being. "Well that's a little stupid. She fixed me up right, didn't she?"

Astoria's lips curved slightly upwards, "She'll be glad to hear. I guess it's because she always toes the line. She never knew when to listen to others."

"Doesn't change the fact that she is a good healer," Harry responded.

Her smile grew even wider, "I'll tell her you said that. I'm sure she'll need to hear it." There was a pause in the conversation, and Astoria's eyes flashed with mischief. "Listen, I'm going to be taking her out for dinner and a drink over at the Leaky Cauldron tonight around eight. To cheer her up. You should be there."

"I might be busy with the investigation," Harry said, "But I'll drop by if I'm around."

Astoria shrugged, "All I can ask for I suppose." She shooed him off with her hand, "Go on in then, Mr. Busy."

Harry snorted as he knocked on the door and entered as soon as he heard the Minister telling him he could come in.

After making sure he had closed the door properly, he sat across Kingsley Shacklebolt. "Good morning, Minister."

Kingsley smiled tiredly in response, "I thought I said that in private you can call me-"

Harry produced a roll of wrinkled yellow parchment from his robe pocket and put it on the oaken table, "Unfortunately, Minister, I'm not here on a social call."

"Obviously," he grumbled as he took the paper, "It's so early I haven't even had my tea yet…" His eyes narrowed as he slowly read its contents, his frown intensifying with each word.

"How did you acquire this letter?" He asked as he slowly put it down.

"Phoenix, sir." Harry replied, "Scared a year off my life last night."

Resignation flooded into Kingsley's eyes, "And you're sure?"

Harry smiled without humor, "I still have the scorch marks on my floor to prove it."

"Was it Fawkes?"

"Obviously."

He gave a beleaguered sigh, "This is probably legitimate, then."

Harry nodded, "I gathered as much. Should we keep its contents a secret?"

There was a pregnant pause.

"Yes," Kingsley nodded as he finally responded, "No need to spread undue panic. Especially if the situation is as temporary as this letter implies." He held up a finger, "However, your mission is the priority. If you think that revealing the contents of this letter is required, you may do so. What's your next step?"

Harry got up and put the letter back into his pocket. "Hogwarts. Dumbledore's portrait may have some answers."

He nodded in response, "Keep me posted." Harry made his way to the door, and right as he turned the handle, Kingsley told him to wait.

"Yes, sir?"

"You know that the Auror department cannot spare anyone to assist you in your mission."

"Yes."

"Your mission's monthly budget is large enough that hiring one or two people would still leave you with enough money to cover any other operational costs. Something to think about," He said, fatigue roughening his already deep voice, "I have a feeling you're going to want someone watching your back."

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Harry closed his eyes as he felt it pulling on his soul. The power. The magic. The Elder Wand.

It called to its master from its resting place at the bottom of the lake, its promises of unmatched power as alluring as a siren's song.

And Harry wouldn't even need to dive in to claim it. All he would need to do was to call it. Pull it into his grasp.

But some men simply don't deserve power.

"'Arry!" came a booming voice, and Harry opened his eyes. The morning sun reflected off the Black lake, its rays glittering daintily on its surface.

A pair of thick arms wrapped around Harry, squeezing the life out of him. "Hagrid," he choked out, I can't breathe…"

His release came as sudden as his embrace, and Harry was left gulping down air as fast as he could. "Good morning. How are you?"

"Fine, Fine. Can't complain." He said, his large smile visible through his shaggy black beard, "Been studyin' lots"

"For the O.W.L.s yeah?" Harry said, his smile as big as Hagrid's.

"Yeah! Now that I've got that pardon and all, I can take 'em! And Headmistress McGonagall says that no professor of Hogwarts can be teachin' without 'em, so I got to."

Harry snorted, "At least you get to use a proper wand, right?"

Hagrid produced a stick as long and as thick as a short sword from his coat pocket, although in his large hands it looked like a regular wand. "Yeah!" The giant man exclaimed, "Good of the Minister to do that, innit?"

"Yeah," Harry said, his smile slowly fading, "Speaking of which, I'm actually here on Ministry business. I need to talk to McGonagall."

"I'll come with ye then. Don't got no classes now anyways."

As they made their way up to the castle, Hagrid excitedly told Harry about the lessons he was teaching his Care of Magical Creatures classes, oblivious to Harry's growing horror.

"Err, Hagrid." Harry said, his voice tinged with worry, "Don't you think Cereberi are a bit dangerous for third years?"

One of Hagrid's massive hands came up to scratch his beard. "Maybe," he said, "But ye and Ron and Hermione played with Fluffy in yer firs' year, didn't ye?"

"…Uh… Yeah? I mean play is a bit-"

Hagrid's eyes shone, like beetle shells in the sun. "So, I figured it'd be fine!"

Well, there really wasn't anything Harry could say to that.

Eventually they arrived at the stone gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office. "Gamp's" Hagrid announced, and the statue moved out of the way, revealing the staircase that hid behind it.

"Well," he said as he pat Harry on the back, making him stumble forwards, "'Ere we are. Come by for tea sometime soon, ye hear. Haven't properly seen ye in a month!"

Harry grinned, "Will do. Keep out of trouble until then!"

He made his way up the stairs and knocked on the wooden door that was located at the top.

"You may enter," he heard a stern voice say.

The door opened with a creak, and Harry took a second to admire the room he found himself in.

It seemed a lot smaller than he remembered it being. The whirring silver tools that were a staple of Dumbledore's tenure were replaced by pictures, books, and miniature broomstick models. Animated portraits of previous headmasters lined the walls, although most of their painted residents seemed to be sleeping.

Harry eyed one in particular.

"Mr. Potter," The headmistress exclaimed, her voice a tad warmer than it was before, "What a pleasant surprise."

Harry's eyes drifted towards the center of the room, and he smiled when he saw McGonagall move to stand. The woman's hair had greyed even further, and her face was now lined with deeper wrinkles. As she walked over to greet Harry, he noted that while McGonagall had aged these past two years, she seemed just as agile and capable as ever.

She firmly shook his hand and pointed him to a seat right in front of her birch desk. "May I offer you a cup of tea?" she asked.

"Thank you, but I'm fine for now."

"Very well," she nodded. "How may I help you then? I assume this isn't a social call, considering you haven't come by to visit for the past two years," she said, the reprimand implicit in her tone.

"You're right, it's not. Although I wasn't aware my company was missed, I'm sorry."

McGonagall's thin lips twitched, "My doors are always open for you, Harry."

Except during his first, second, and fifth years. But that was beside the point.

"Professor, I'm actually here on behalf of the Ministry. For an investigation," he said as he showed her his newly acquired Auror badge.

"Ah," she said, the corners of her eyes wrinkling as he squinted. "Is this about the attack?"

Harry nodded, "How is the school faring, after that?"

"Fine, thankfully the wards kept those creatures away," she said, relief evident in her voice, "A few students were sent home to grieve lost relatives, but most are only upset that Honeydukes has been destroyed."

"That's good to hear," he said. "Speaking of the attack, I need to talk to Dumbledore's portrait. To see if he knows anything about the creatures."

"Right then," she said as she stood and made her way to the door, "I have a few professors I must speak to anyways. Take care, Mr. Potter."

Harry got up when the door closed and made his way to the portrait he had taken note of before. Next to the portrait of a sleeping Severus Snape, a painted version of Albus Dumbledore was looking at Harry with great interest.

"Hello, my boy! You seem to have grown quite a bit," he exclaimed, and Harry immediately noticed the differences… the flaws.

The real Dumbledore's eyes were a different shade of blue, and while he almost always had a twinkle in his eye, Harry didn't remember it being this obnoxious.

"Harry, my boy, are you well?"

Harry gritted his teeth. This caricature also seemed fond of referring to people as 'my boy'.

"I'm fine, headmaster, and I have an important question to ask. Did you ever write me a letter? One to be delivered after your death?"

Dumbledore stroked his long white beard with his wrinkled, but unblemished, right hand. "I don't remember doing such a thing, no. Would you terribly mind if you read it to me?"

Harry took the wrinkled piece of parchment out of his pocket and unfolded it. He took a moment to appreciate the elegance of the handwriting on it as a strange pain bloomed in his gut.

"Dear Harry," he read aloud after he took a deep breath.

"Before I elucidate you on the purpose of this letter, I must first offer my congratulations. The fact that this letter has been successfully delivered means that the war has ended, and that you have survived it, despite the overwhelming odds. I imagine that you have been through many harrowing trials, and I have no doubt that some of those trials were the result of my errors.

Although you may find it hard to believe, I did everything I could to make sure that the war would end, and that you would survive to see that end. However, I am aware that my methods were not ideal, and have probably caused you no small amount of pain.

And so, I must apologize. For keeping you ignorant and in the dark. For hurting you time and time again. For making you shoulder the greatest of responsibilities."

Harry ground his teeth together as he desperately fought to keep his composure. He inhaled shakily, and continued,

"And now I must apologize for doing the same to you again.

The last condition for the sending of this letter is that an attack of a very particular nature has been carried out on the world. An attack of demonic variety conducted by forces that come from realms of reality beyond this one.

But before I can go into more detail there, I must highlight the difference between a dark wizard and a dark lord.

A dark wizard, as you know, is someone who uses dark magic. Now dark magic can be used as a blanket term for illegal magic, but true dark wizards use a more sinister set of tools.

True dark magic is, in essence, tied to demons. It involves drawing and channeling this alien energy, and in doing so perverting your very essence. An example would be the Unforgivable Curses, which is entry level dark magic.

A dark lord, on the other hand, is a wizard that has made direct contact with these forces and has entered a pact with them (Such as Grindelwald), or has forced them into submission (Such as Voldemort).

That is one of the primary reasons why demon attacks have been so rare, dark lords have kept them subservient to their own goals and by doing so have suppressed their more destructive tendencies.

The other is the Order of the Phoenix. Contrary to common belief, I did not create the organization nor was it founded with the sole goal of combating Voldemort.

This ancient order has two goals, the first is to combat demonic forces. The second is to keep the knowledge of demonic entities away from the eye of the public, in order to limit the number of dark lords that may possibly arise.

The Order of the Phoenix does this by being an order of one, with the sole true member passing down the position to another that they have chosen.

I have chosen you to be my successor.

Your task, and test, is to find out about the origin of the Order of the Phoenix. I cannot give you more answers, for this is your initiation.

You will be doing battle with forces beyond life and death and will be facing eldritch creatures beyond mortal comprehension. The path will be long and perilous, yet I am sure I have made the right choice.

I am sorry, but there is no one else I can entrust this to.

With all my love and lemon drops,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore"

Harry's throat felt dry as he turned his gaze back upon the painting, "The symbol of the deathly hallows is on the bottom of the paper," he finished.

A tense silence flooded the room.

"So," Harry finally croaked out, "Do you really not remember any of this?"

The portrait gazed sadly upon Harry, "Nothing, my boy. Nothing at all…" he sighed as he averted his gaze downwards, "I am but a painting. I do not have even a fraction of the memories, or knowledge, or even the depth of personality of the original. But I do know this. He…" he choked out, "I am deeply sorry for all the pain I have put you through, and that I am doing so again. My original truly must have felt like he had no choice."

Harry felt like ramming his fist through the wall. He took a deep breath. Once. Twice. Thrice.

"Any hints?"

"None. Although I suppose you could research the order. Or maybe…"

"What?" Harry spat out; his patience rapidly depleting.

"Research about me and my life. Perhaps you will find a clue there."

Harry could hear his teeth grinding. He wanted to rage, scream, demand to know why he never just got a straight answer.

He didn't.

"Thank you," he said, hiding his emotions behind auror professionality and fledgling occlumency.

He left the room, making sure to close the door quietly behind him.

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Harry spent the rest of the day in the ministry archives, researching everything he could about Albus Dumbledore.

There wasn't much really. While people first started really taking notice of him after his defeat of Grindelwald, there were a few records about him that predated his victory, like his research papers and NEWT records, but they didn't really help Harry.

There was one interesting article about him going to a remote location in order to serve as Flamel's apprentice, but that was all the noteworthy information he could find.

After spending what felt like an eternity poring through books and articles, and finding nothing to show for it, Harry gave up for the day.

He felt frustrated and tense and all he really wanted right now was a stiff drink to loosen up.

He flooed into the Leaky Cauldron and sat down on a stool in front of the bar. "Hey, Tom!"

The decrepit bartender walked out of the backroom. He approached Harry with a sleazy smile on his face, "Why if it isn't the Man-Who-Won. What can I get you today?"

"Firewhiskey," Harry said, looking around the pub. "Hey, how come it's so empty here?"

Tom slid a shot glass over to Harry, its amber contents sloshing over its rim. "No-one wants to be 'round here after the attack," he shrugged, "eh, they'll be back in a week. Seen worse this bar has!"

Harry scrounged around his pockets for a few sickles, but Tom stopped him, "Heard you're the one who saved the Alley. First one's free today."

Harry smiled, "Thanks."

A bell chimed as the Alley facing door of the bar opened. Two slightly similar looking blondes came in.

Astoria smiled at Harry and waved as she moved to join him, dragging her sister by the hand.

Daphne politely smiled at Harry, although he could tell it was rather strained. She sat next to the Auror as her sister plonked herself down next to her.

"Harry," she said, her voice a bit hoarse, "How are you feeling? Recovering well, I hope."

He nodded, "Yeah. Following my Healer's orders to the letter."

She raised a delicate brow, "Really? Because from what I remember, you were notorious for disregarding Pomfrey's advice back in Hogwarts."

"Well," he said as one of his hands reached up to scratch the nape of his neck, "seemed like a good idea to listen to the Healer I saw. She was terrifying."

Daphne scoffed but her lips arced upwards into a small, but genuine, smile. "Thanks."

Astoria clapped her hands from her seat behind Daphne, "See, I knew it was a good idea to invite you!"

Harry didn't have the heart to tell her he completely forgot about her invitation and that he only planned on drinking a bit before walking to his apartment and passing out.

She ordered a plate of fish and chips for herself and her sister, and Harry suddenly noticed the hunger gnawing on the inside of his belly.

"Actually Tom," he interrupted, "make that three plates."

They each drank a shot of Firewhiskey as they waited for their food, making light conversation.

"It's just kind of unexpected that Malfoy would end up working in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," Harry said as Tom placed their plates in front of them, "I mean, it's Malfoy."

Astoria frowned, "Well it is a bit unexpected, but-"

"A bit?" Daphne snorted as she tossed a chip into her mouth "That's an understatement. We're talking about Draco 'Leave-all -the-work-to-the-elves' Malfoy," she said as she deepened her voice and adopted a haughty expression.

Harry laughed, "That is disturbingly accurate."

"That's not fair!" Astoria huffed.

Daphne grinned, her teeth glinting viciously, "Draco 'Need-my-father-to-wipe-my-arse' Malfoy."

"He's changed, he really has!" The younger Greengrass whined as she stomped her feet, causing Harry to laugh even harder.

"Okay, okay, enough!" Harry said, waving his arms around. "I think I'm going to get a hernia!"

This time it was Astoria's visage that turned feral, "Well if you do, I'm sure our resident Healer will nurse you back to health."

Harry blushed as Daphne looked down, "Yeah," she said, malaise dampening her voice, "Resident healer. Sure."

Astoria's eyes widened as she realized her mistake. "Oh Daph. You still are a healer; they didn't revoke your license."

"They almost did."

"Well they didn't because they couldn't," Harry said, "They'd be stupid to do that to such a talented healer anyways."

Daphne shot him an appreciative smile, "Thanks-"

"Hey!" Astoria exclaimed, "How come when I say it, you're about as receptive as a wall, but when he says it…"

Daphne snorted, "Maybe because he was my patient?" She sighed and shook her head, "It doesn't matter anyways, I won't get hired anywhere, and I can't open my own clinic without a specialist degree."

Astoria crossed her arms, "And just why wouldn't you get hired? Anyone would be lucky to have the youngest certified healer in Britain!"

"Yes bu-"

"And next time, you just won't focus so much on magic infusion therapies!"

Daphne glared at her, "I can't just give it up, and you know why." she snarled.

Astoria glared back, "Yes you can. Let. It. Go!"

Harry watched on, awkwardly looking between the two, "Err…"

Daphne looked at him and winced, "Sorry about that Harry. Long-standing argument."

"Right." Harry really didn't know what else to say.

Luckily, Daphne just continued where she had left off before, "As I was saying," she said, glowering at Astoria out of the corner of her eye, "no one would hire a healer fired from St. Mungo's. I mean, it's not exactly a common occurrence," she said, the words rushing out of her, "it's really hard to get fired from there, so it's a giant black mark on my name, therefore it's highly unlikely I'll get hired in Britain. Especially when so many other healers are available."

"Personally," Harry started, "I think anyone who doesn't hire you just because of that is stu-"

"Wait a minute!" Astoria said as she held up a hand, "Do you guys hear that?"

As they fell silent, Harry started hearing faint screams and the sound of spell-fire. He shot out of his seat like a cannon ball. "You two stay here," he barked out, his sudden tone shift causing both girls to flinch.

Astoria quickly stood up, "I'm coming with you."

Before Harry could respond Daphne jumped up and whirled to face her sister directly, "Not a chance! It's dangerous and you know you should refrain from casting unless strictly necessary."

"Bu-"

"And it is definitely not necessary now," Daphne bit out, a strange desperation lighting up her eyes.

"Yes, it is," Astoria replied meekly, her lower lip quivering, "Harry can't go there alone."

Harry interrupted before the conversation devolved any further, "No, you two definitely need to stay here."

"And," he added with a sudden flash of inspiration, "I need you to make sure nothing spills out into the muggle London from here, alright?"

While Astoria still looked a bit undecided, Daphne favored him with grateful look. "Ok," she said, sighing in relief, "I think Tori and I can handle that."

Harry nodded and turned back towards the door leading to Diagon Alley. "And make sure Tom stays in here!" he called out as he jogged towards the exit.

Harry followed the sounds of screams and shouted incantations all the way to the front of Gringotts's bank.

_These buggers really seem to like this place, _Harry thought with dark amusement. He spotted a team of Aurors fighting off what appeared to be short, emaciated men with horns atop their heads and furry goat haunches where their legs were supposed to be. Their faces similar to those of normal men, but there was something off about them. As if the proportions of each part were just slightly off. _Must be the fauns._

"Reducto!" Harry cried, sending one of them flying into a wall. One of the Aurors ran over to Harry, flinging spells all the way. Her eyes lit up in recognition as she broke off from her team and approached, "Hey! Potter!"

Harry saw a brownish blur approach her from behind, causing Harry to instinctively erect a shield of pulsating blue light around her. There was a dull thunk as one of the goat men bounced off the arcane shield and onto the floor. It hissed at Harry through unnaturally long canines, a forked tongue flickering between its teeth. Its blood red eyes narrowed as it got up and lunged, a blur rushing towards Harry with killer intent.

"Diffindo!" he heard a cry from behind him, and crimson blood splattered over Harry as a silver crescent of light decapitated the faun.

Daphne panted as she approached, her breaths coming out as wheezing gasps. Harry rounded on her, "I thought I told you to stay with your sister?" he asked as he cast _Kalypso's Refuge_ around them and the Auror who had just approached.

"Potter," the Auror said, the green light of Harry's shield spell reflecting off her blue eyes, "Captain McMahon, and you're a godsend. There is a total of 12 of these things around,"

Harry grunted as he raised his wand above his head, causing the light of the spell to flare brighter. "Two of them are attacking," he explained as a drop of sweat dripped down his face, "make it quick."

She nodded, the brown curls of her shoulder length hair bobbing. "3 of them broke off from the group earlier, heading towards Knockturn. You deal with them, my team can handle the ones here." "She turned towards Daphne, "Who are you? An Auror, or did Potter deputize you?"

"The latter," she responded before Harry could say anything about it.

"Good, go with Potter."

"Those two things are still attacking," Harry grunted out, "They'll get us the moment I bring the shield down."

"We'll time it," replied McMahon, her eyes narrowing as she strategized, "you drop it on my signal, and I'll cast a radiating banisher."

Daphne's brows scrunched up, "Won't that push Harry and I too?"

"That's why you'll be shielding the both of you. A simple _Protego_ will do," the captain replied, "now remember that it's a concave, front facing spell, so stand between me and Potter," she said as she grabbed Daphne by the shoulders and placed her right in front of Harry, " And face me. Got it?"

Daphne nodded, although Harry could notice she hesitated a bit. She carefully went through the wand motions and muttered the incantation, causing an umbrella of faint blue light to sprout from her wand.

_I hope that holds, _Harry thought with no small amount of apprehension.

"Three," McMahon said, whipping her slender wand around her head in concentric circles.

"Two," she called out, and Harry could feel the energy that now swirled around the captain.

"One," she called out, and Harry's brought down his arms, shattering the surrounding green dome. The pair of goat-men cackled as they charged towards the trio.

"Depulso!" McMahon exclaimed and an invisible force pushed out away from her in every direction, sending the two goat-men flying into the walls with a sickening crunch.

Daphne's shield broke with the sound of fracturing glass, causing her and Harry to stumble backwards.

Harry, knowing it was only a matter of time before the other fauns took notice, quickly grabbed Daphne's hand and ran towards Knockturn.

"I thought I told you to stay with your sister," he grunted out.

"She was about to go after you. Made me go out in exchange for her staying in the pub."

He let go of her hand as they continued jogging towards the seedy underbelly of the wizarding world. "Stay alert," he told her, the order implicit in his voice.

As the pair approached the narrow entrance of Knockturn Alley, Harry saw a pair of abandoned leather briefcases lying on the floor. He flicked his wand towards them, and where there once was luggage there was now a pair of grey wolves. "We'll send them in first."

The wolf on the right slowly padded towards the narrow entrance, its nose pointed upwards as it sniffed the air. "I feel like we're being watched…" Daphne whispered.

"That's because we probably are being watched," Harry responded, equally quiet.

The wolf skidded across the ground as a faun raced out of the alley and violently collided with it, eliciting a high-pitched yelp from the canid.

With lightning fast reflexes, Harry turned towards the monster and fired a cutting curse at it, cleanly bisecting it and the wolf.

He noticed Daphne look a little green from the corner of his eye, "Look, alive," he warned her, "save your nausea for after the battle."

Before she could respond, Harry heard something resembling the galloping of horses coming from the narrow entrance into Knockturn. Without thinking twice, he flicked his wand and created a tidal wave of earth, sending it hurtling towards the entry.

Two more fauns sped out of the narrow passageway and tried to swerve out of the way of the earthen tide. Fortunately, they were going too fast to change directions so abruptly and collided with it, bouncing back into the alley.

"Stupefy," Daphne called out and a red jet of light rushed towards one of the creatures, knocking it out as it collided with its pale chest.

Harry's remaining wolf pounced on the remaining faun and kept it from immediately getting back up, giving Harry enough time to conjure an arrow and send it flying into its mouth and through the back of its head, killing it instantly.

"That directly went through its medulla..." Daphne said, her eyes wide with awe.

"Quickest way to kill a humanoid," Harry said as his eyes scanned their surroundings for more threats, "And don't use a stunner next time. They aren't a species recognized as sentient by the ministry, so you won't get in trouble for killing it."

Harry saw her blush out of the corner of his eye, "It was the first spell I thought of…" she said quietly.

_Civilian, _Harry reminded himself. _Although a good one to have at your side, _he thought, thankful that she didn't freeze up.

He cautiously approached the unconscious faun, his steps small and light. The faun let out a small cough and sluggishly started getting onto its feet, prompting Harry into casting a cutting curse towards its neck. Harry relaxed a smidge as he saw the spell hit its target.

Only to tense up again as the spell was absorbed into the creature's skin, giving it an ominous glow.

Harry stepped back and conjured a dagger made of silver, flicking his wand to banish it towards the rapidly waking creature. Harry felt the blood drain from his face as the dagger bounced off its chest.

_Fuck! _

The faun stumbled onto its hooves and shrieked, its shrill wail sounding like the cries of an agonized child.

Harry noticed a pale purple line that sprouted from the hollow between its protruding ribs, going upwards towards something that seemed to be directly above Harry and Daphne.

The faun took a step towards the pair, and Harry rushed through the motions of the strongest protective spell he knew. The hybrid took another step towards them, and a large smile appeared on its human-like visage, a deep fissure that split its face grotesquely in two. It ran towards the Harry and his companion, murderous intent flashing in its too-wide eyes.

A green dome quickly rose around the pair just as the creature drew nearer, sending it bouncing off the spell with a wooden thunk.

It squealed with impotent rage and started ramming into the shield, causing Harry's magic to flex painfully with every collision. Harry thought he heard a pained yelp. _Probably the remaining __wolf._

Daphne eyes widened with obvious fear, "Harry," she asked quietly, "Are we going to die?"

"No," Harry grunted out, "I'm thinking of a plan."

He knew that something had changed within the faun and considering that the only difference he could see on the faun was the purple thread, the likely impetus of that change was whatever that thread lead to. Unfortunately, the source of that thread seemed to be directly above them…

"I've got a plan," he said, shaking under the strain of maintaining _Kalypso's Refuge. _"Dome spells don't collapse all at once so long as you slowly end the spell, lessening the magic you feed it bit by bit. The collapse starts at the top and moves downward," Harry suddenly gasped as the faun slammed into the dome, _I can't keep this up for much longer! _

"I transfer spell to you," he panted out, his words disjointed as fatigue and pain engulfed his entire body, "Know how?"

Daphne gulped and nodded, "Common procedure in long operation-"

"You drop shield on my signal," he continued, cutting her off. "I propel up and stop the source of power above us. We do it in time, and there will be a moment where faun will bounce off shield and will be vulnerable, you kill it then."

Daphne nodded, her eyes glinting with determination. "Good," Harry said, the beginnings of hope infusing his body with energy. "Brace yourself, the spell is tiring, and you won't be able to move when as you power it."

"Now, take over the spell," he ordered. He felt her magic wrap around his own, flowing into the shape of the protective spell. He heard her wheeze as he withdrew his magic and saw her slightly hunch over at the strain of the spell.

He heard the faun smash into the shield and prepared his spell as he determined the rhythm at which it attacked.

As he crouched down, he traced the motions of a directional wind spell into the ground, allowing the spell to build up in strength before he finally cast it.

"Now!" Harry yelled just as the faun bounced off the green dome one last time. He leapt up and simultaneously released his spell, the magically conjured wind propelling upwards through a hole that appeared in the protective spell.

Harry saw a floating golden eye watching them as he approached, a string of purple magic protruding from its back and connecting it to the faun.

Instinctively knowing he barely had a second before he collided with it, he cast one of the only offensive spells he knew that didn't require a wand motion.

A blade of blue light sprouted from the tip of his wand just before he crashed into the eye, and Harry swung it with all of his remaining strength, cleanly bisecting it into equal parts.

Harry continued ascending as he watched the thing dissolve into black smoke, and although he had no reason to, Harry could swear that it examined him with an appraising look.

Harry focused his attention onto Daphne as he began his descent, relief course through his body as he saw the remaining faun bounce off the remnant of the falling dome. He watched Daphne cast her spell as he started slowing his fall, using his wand to trace concentric circles between his legs.

She missed.

Cold panic flushed through his entire being as he abandoned his slowing spell and took aim at the faun, knowing he wouldn't be able to cast fast enough to hit the creature before it got to Daphne.

It charged towards her, a speeding missile of death that would destroy all in its path.

The demon tackled her to the ground and raised a hand, the faint light of the moon glinting off its sharp nails.

A crescent of grey light cut through its neck, sending its head flying. Its headless body collapsed onto Daphne just as Harry crashed into the ground.

He landed on his left leg and heard a terrible snap as he rolled into a wall. He felt his body fill with what felt like static as his head went numb. Everything around him faded to the background as all he could concentrate was on the feeling of wrongness pervading his entire body.

"Harry!" he heard a male voice call out as he saw a familiar redhead approaching.

"George? What're you doing here?" he mumbled out.

"Saw you two leave the other aurors over in the main square, was at the Wheezes to check on the extent of the damage," He gasped out, "Thought you might need some help, but I lost you a little bit back. Just luck I managed to get here right now." His brows raised and eyes widened as his gaze landed on Harry's left leg, "Mother of Merlin…"

Harry heard light footsteps approaching as a strange throbbing pain manifested in his left leg. He saw Daphne bend down and examine his leg on the edge of his peripheral vision.

"We can't apparate him," she said in an emotionless voice, "His leg is too badly broken. Do you know anywhere we can go?"

"Harry's apartment is close by."

She nodded, "Alright then, I need you to levitate him," She turned towards Harry and looked at him in directly in the eyes, "Ok Mr. Potter, I know you're in shock right now and most of this isn't meaningful in any capacity, but I need you to do something important," she said, her voice stern but soothing. _She has a nice voice._

"You're going to feel magic surround your body," she continued in the same tone of voice, "and your first instinct is going to be to fight against it. I need you to relax your magic to prevent that, ok?"

As Harry nodded, he felt an invisible force press closely around his entire body and lift him up, causing lava and pain and pure fire to rush up his leg. Harry grit his teeth in order to stop himself from screaming.

Eventually he was set down onto a stretcher, and Harry sighed in relief. It gently floated upwards as Daphne directed it with her wand, "Lead the way then Mr…."

"Weasley, George Weasley," George replied as they walked away from the Alley.

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Harry woke up in his bed wearing nothing but his underwear. His entire body felt sore, his mouth felt like a scorpion decided to nest in it, and his left foreleg was incredibly itchy.

Throwing off the blankets covering him, he got out of bed only to wince as a twinge of pain shot up his leg. He found his glasses on top of his bedside drawer and put them on, looking around as the world snapped into focus. He saw Daphne Greengrass asleep in his study chair, her head resting upon his desk.

The last thing he remembered was being floated away by George and Daphne. Speaking of, where was George?

As Harry slowly got dressed, he suddenly remembered that he didn't undress last night, which meant that…

He glanced at Daphne and felt his face heat up; thankful she wasn't awake to see him go as red as a Weasley.

After drinking some water and washing his face, and finally feeling as if he were something close to human again, he decided to wake her up. He gently tapped her shoulder, "Daphne" he whispered, feeling silly as he did so, "Wake up."

She mumbled something in her sleep and turned her face towards Harry. _How can someone look so appealing while drooling, _Harry thought, amazed.

He shook his head, unwilling to be distracted by irrelevant thoughts. He tapped her again, this time using slightly more force.

Suddenly her head shot up and hit Harry in the mouth, sending him stumbling back. "What the-ow," she began, rubbing her head, "Watch where you put your fat head, Potter."

"Ah, yeah, sorr-" Harry suddenly stopped and furrowed his brows, "Wait a minute, why am I apologizing, you headbutted me!"

She raised an eyebrow, "I was sleeping, Potter," she said, sounding quite condescending as she said his last name, "How was I supposed to know your stupid head was there?"

She smirked as Harry stuttered, trying (and failing) to come up with an adequate response. Her brown eyes softened as she looked upon his leg, "How're you feeling? And why are you out of bed?" she said, her tone turning harsh as she asked the question.

Harry looked down guiltily, although he wasn't exactly sure what he should have felt guilty about. "I had to get dressed and speaking of which…." He trailed off, raising a brow as he looked pointedly at Daphne.

"Get back in bed," she said calmly and tonelessly, although her rapidly reddening countenance betrayed her feelings on the matter.

Harry obeyed and slipped back into bed, grinning all the while. There was just something so satisfying about getting a reaction out of her…

"Where is George? I didn't imagine his presence last night, did I?"

She rolled her eyes, "No, you didn't. He left as soon as I finished most of my work on your leg. It was better than it looked, I just had to set your tibia and fibula in place and give you the right potions. Barely had to cast any spells," she finished, looking quite pleased with her report.

"Err, George?" He asked, wondering if she actually forgot his question.

She turned slightly pink, "He went to tell the other Aurors that you completed your task but were too injured to report in, before he presumably went home."

She smirked teasingly at Harry "Made me promise to keep you safe though. How cute."

Harry sniffed in response, and her smirk grew even wider. "And, Harry, do you really think it's wise keeping keys under your doormat. Any old idiot could simply look there and get into your home, with you none the wiser."

"Clearly it was a good idea, considering we could only enter because of that key."

"Point," she replied with a shrug.

"And the key is warded so that only a few people can pick it up," he continued, squirming as he tried to get comfortable in bed.

She looked at him with approval shining clearly in her eyes, "Smart," she said, causing Harry to feel warm in his belly, as if he had just eaten a bowl of soup.

"Anyways," she said with a yawn, "I should probably leave and check back on Astoria."

Harry felt worry worm its way into his stomach, "Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she sent a Patronus message last night," she replied as she picked up her wand and put on her boots, "George will be here in about an hour, try to take care of yourself until then. Don't do anything strenuous until tomorrow, Healer's orders."

"Oh!" she exclaimed, whirling around to face Harry, "And you'll have to stock up on Skele-Gro. I… pretty much used all of it."

"Yeah," Harry said, rubbing his chin, "You know the only reason I had any to begin with is that Proudfoot, my auror instructor," he clarified at seeing her confused expression, "kept on 'accidently' breaking my fingers during training." Harry snorted, "Accidental my arse."

Daphne winced in sympathy, "Ouch. Err… At least it got you to keep some potions around here."

"Yeah…" Harry replied, "That's one way to look at it. By the way, good job last night."

Daphne looked down in response, "Thank you, but I know I didn't do all that great…"

Harry shook his head, "You did perfectly fine for a civilian, especially considering the last time you were in serious magical combat was the Battle of Hogwarts."

She grimaced, "Yeah, I came with all the other Slytherins Slughorn gathered up," her jaw tensed, "I still have nightmares about that night…"

"Same," Harry said. The room fell silent as dark thoughts passed through their minds.

"But seriously," Harry said, forcing a smile onto his face, "I would have died without you last night."

Daphne sharply looked up, and a haughty smile overtook her expression, "Yeah," she said as she puffed up like a pufferfish, "you would have."

A thought suddenly popped into Harry's mind as Kingsley's voice echoed in his head_, your mission's monthly budget is large enough that hiring one or two people would still leave you with enough money to cover any other operational costs. Something to think about._

"Yes," Harry said decisively, "I would have. Listen, you're unemployed right now, right?"

Daphne nodded as she frowned at him, "Yes…"

"And," Harry continued, "You told me last night that you're afraid that no one will hire you because you got fired from St. Mungo's, right? That it's a black mark on your name?"

She glared at him, "Yes, what's your point?"

"Would a letter of recommendation from the 'Man-Who-Won' change that? Erase that black mark?"

Daphne's mouth fell open, "I mean, yes, probably," she said in a faint voice.

"So, come work for me. I'll give you the best letter of recommendation you've ever seen," he said, excitement sparkling in his eyes.

"WHAT?!"

"I'm working on a case, investigating these demons. And I need someone to watch my back, as clearly shown by yesterday's events," he continued as if he hadn't heard her, "And you've clearly shown that you're capable of doing so. You'll get paid eight hundred galleons per month."

"What," she repeated, her face paling and eyes widening.

"And," Harry added, feeling the need to sweeten the deal, "free food and a place to stay if you need it."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "This place only has one bed, Mr. Potter," she enunciated clearly, her brown eyes as hard as arctic ice.

"What," Harry said, face flushing, "No! I've got a big place that needs renovation," he said, the words rapidly spewing out of his mouth "It has multiple rooms, and a ward stone already in place that just needs activating."

He thought for a bit, "The way things are going, I'll move there anyways. It's probably safer to live away from magically dense areas."

"But why me? Wouldn't it be wiser to get someone with real combat experience?"

"But it's also quite wise to get someone who can heal me," he retorted, "And you've already proven your competence."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "I do not desire an early death, Potter, and your occupation is known to be quite hazardous."

"Yes," he said trying to think of a good response, "but all things of value come with risk."

There was a pause in the conversation as Daphne looked up at the ceiling, clearly thinking. "When do I get the letter," she asked.

"When my mission is done," he said. "Or," he added, seeing Daphne's face harden at his reply, "after a year and a half. Whichever comes first."

Only the sound of their breathing could be heard as another pause filled the room with silence.

"You drive a hard bargain, Potter," she said tonelessly.

Harry nodded, fighting off the victorious smile that threatened to appear on his face.

She sighed, "I agree."

Harry's lips twitched upwards, "Alright, apparate here nine am tomorrow."

Daphne rolled her eyes, "There are anti-apparition wards here, Potter."

Withdrawing his wand, Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on the warm, wet feeling of Daphne's magic and tied it to his wards. "You'll be able to apparate in and out of here now."

She nodded, "Nine am, tomorrow, see you then," she said right before she disappeared with a crack.

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It wasn't long before George had apparated into Harry's apartment, a shit eating grin on his face. "Hey there Auror, see you've been promoted out of being a trainee," he put his fist under his chin and mimicked The Thinker, "Although getting your leg broken on your first job probably looks terrible on your record, eh?"

He ducked under the pillow Harry threw at him, "Prat," Harry laughed out. "Hey, thanks for telling the others that the job was done. How were they?"

George sat down heavily on the rickety chair in front of Harry's desk, "Don't mention it. They were fine, all alive, although a few were injured. Where's that bird that was with you, Daphne I think it was?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Shut up, it's not like that," Harry said, glaring at him.

"Oh, what's it like then?" he responded, a shit eating grin plastered onto his face.

"Shut up," Harry whined, "plus, she's my employee now, so, you know."

"Oh, is she?" George replied, the innuendo implicit in his voice, "A secretary perhaps," he said with a saucy wink.

"A second wand and personal healer," Harry continued, pretending he didn't understand what the Weasley was hinting at.

"Personal Healer, eh?" he chuckled, "to take care of _all _of your problems."

"What were you doing in the Alley yesterday?" Harry said, desperate to change the subject.

George's expression instantly darkened, "I was in the Wheezes, taking stock of all the damage…"

"Oh George, I'm so sorry…" Harry said weakly. _I'm sorry. It was my fault, I should have been faster, better, stronger. _

"It's just," he gritted out, his fist clenched beside him, "I feel like I let him down."

"Let who down?"

George's lower lip trembled as a lone tear made its way down his cheek, "Fred," he croaked out.

He continued before Harry could respond, "We started that shop together, it was our dream, and now it's completely destroyed!"

"Hey," Harry said as he got up to pat George on the back, "You'll renovate, it'll open up, and it'll be good as new."

"No, it won't," he bit out, "It'll change. It'll change into something else, into something he has never seen before. It won't be our shop anymore!" He cried out, gasping as he looked around in panic.

"George," Harry said, trying to emulate Daphne's tone from when he broke his leg the previous night,_ stern but soothing, _"It'll always be his shop, just like it'll always be yours. You two started it together, and nothing can take that away."

George pulled back and turned away from Harry, "I just think," he growled out, "maybe, there's something more I could have done, a ward I could have cast…"

_Me too, _Harry thought as remorse filled his heart, _there's a lot more I could have done, should have done…_

"George," Harry continued, carefully making sure his thoughts were not reflected in his tone, "There's nothing you could have done."

"I mean," he said trying to think of something, anything, to make his friend feel better, "even Dumbledore said that these forces are beyond life and death!"

There was a silence, one loaded with tension, pain, and good intent.

"Dumbledore said that did he…?"

"Yes!" Harry responded, relief quickening his speech, "Right after the first attack his phoenix delivered a letter to me, and he said that. Verbatim almost! I can't show you the letter, I'm sorry, but he did!"

"And he was being… serious," George slowly said, pronouncing his words with such care that one would wonder if they were made of glass, ready to shatter at the slightest disturbance. "He wasn't…. exaggerating?"

"No," Harry said, grateful that George no longer seemed hysterical.

"Alright," George said as he turned back around to face Harry, his easy smile making the tear tracks on his cheeks all the more obvious, "if it's beyond life and death," he finished with a strange glint in his eyes.

"It is," Harry sighed, "do I need to repeat it again? Has your remaining ear stopped working mate?" He joked, thinking that George would probably feel better with some levity.

"Har, Har," he said, a small smile on his face, "But listen, if you're facing forces _beyond life and death_," he said seriously, "you'll probably need all the help you can get. Keep me informed, alright?"

"George," Harry said as he raised a single eyebrow, "I can handle it, and it isn't like I'll be alone. Just focus on staying safe, alright?"

"Fine, fine," he said, his tone light, "but that doesn't mean I can't make anything to help you, does it?"

Harry thought about it, "Fair enough."

George smiled victoriously in response, "Good," he said, as his ever-present spark of mischief slowly made its way back into his eyes, "Unfortunately, dear Harrykins, this little heart to heart hasn't saved you from talking about your bird," he laughed, high pitched and hyena-like.

"Tell me, what woes of yours does that Healer alleviate exactly?"

"GEORGE!"


	4. Chapter 3: Au Revoir Monsieur Fawkes

AN: Well everyone, sorry for the incredibly late update. My schedule the last few months has been incredibly hectic, not to mention the fact that this chapter always felt less than stellar to me, so this fic was put on the back burner (although I never really stopped working on it). Hopefully updates will be more regular from now on, but even if my hectic schedule persists, I would like to say that this fic is not on Hiatus, and I don't plan on abandoning it either. On the upside, I've just discovered that this website allows you to respond to comments, so I'll be doing that from now on.

All things Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling. It's her sandbox, we're just playing in it.

Chapter 3: Au Revoir Monsieur Fawkes

Daphne woke to the violent buzzing of her wand on her bedside table.

_Damn alarm charms, _she thought grumpily as she picked up the offending instrument and undid her spell. Kicking off her green silk sheets, she padded over to her bathroom and brushed her teeth with slow, lazy movements. She cast a hair-styling spell with her wand in her left hand, mildly amused as she watched her messy frizz fall into the shoulder-length curls she usually wore. Daphne smiled as she spat out her toothpaste, _that never gets old. _

As sleep's fog slowly faded from her mind, she suddenly realized that it was the first day of her new job.

The first day of her new job! She quickly cast a _tempus _charm, sighing in relief as maroon threads of light formed '7:20' before fading away.

Deciding that dressing professionally would be the best course of action, she put on a black pair of trousers, a black blouse, and her green healer's robes.

After applying some light make-up, she exited her room and stepped out into a long empty corridor. Her footsteps echoed as she approached the set of stairs found at the hallway's end.

She shivered as she descended the staircase. Regardless of season or weather, Greengrass manor always felt cold.

The first thing Daphne saw as she entered the dining room was Astoria shoving the last of her food into her mouth. "Must you eat like a boor, Astoria?" Daphne scolded as she sat next to her.

"Gooff mofon," Astoria exclaimed, half chewed food spilling out of her mouth.

Daphne spied two plates of bacon and eggs in the middle of the table. "Swallow, then speak," she instructed as she took a plate and a set of cutleries.

She watched her sister struggle to swallow with amusement, chuckling between bites of carefully cut food.

"Good morning," Astoria said as she finally finished forcing her breakfast down her esophagus. She eyed the remaining plate with obvious desire.

The healer rolled her eyes, "Take it. I highly doubt father will come down in time to join us."

Astoria snorted as she reached for the plate, "What else is new?" She took a bite and glanced at her sister out of the corner of her eye, "Are you still mad at me?"

Sighing, Daphne replied, "No. I knew you wouldn't have gone through with it anyways. I was just looking for an excuse to go with him."

Not that she knew why, exactly. She wasn't exactly the type to just throw herself into danger willy-nilly, and she definitely wasn't some kind of self-sacrificing heroine. Yet she still felt the need to go out onto that demon infested street, to make sure that Harry made it through the night alive.

"Oh," Astoria said, humor glinting dangerously in her grey eyes, "worried about him, were we? Dear sister, have you ever heard of Nightingale Syndrome?"

Choosing to ignore her annoying sister, Daphne continued, "However, the next time you need to contact me, do so through the floo or get someone else to _Patronus_ me. Are we clear?"

She stuck her tongue out at her in response, "You're just jealous that you can't cast the _Patronus_ and I can-"

Daphne snapped her fingers under Astoria's nose, "Are. We. Clear," she said, no longer asking.

Astoria abruptly stood up and glared at her sister with pure venom, "I can't live my life like a squib!"

Getting to her feet, Daphne coolly responded, "I'm not asking you to. However, I do not believe that asking you to refrain from casting spells is unreasonable." Daphne's gut twinged with annoyance as she realized that she had to look up to meet her _little_ sister's eyes.

"It was necessary," she responded, crossing her skinny arms and pouting.

"No, it wasn't."

"Ugh," Astoria exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air, "I can't deal with this right now." She withdrew her wand and summoned her jacket with a flourish. "I'm going to work," she announced, smirking at Daphne despite her rapidly paling complexion.

Daphne raised a single elegant brow, "Ask Bailey to deliver your jacket next time."

"The old elf is overworked as is," she said as she stepped into the fireplace and grabbed some Floo powder from the silver pot next to her. "Tell her I said the food was delish."

Daphne narrowed her eyes, "This isn't over."

"It never is with you. The Ministry," she retorted with a vicious snarl, disappearing in a flash of green flame.

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Daphne apparated into Harry's small apartment at nine o'clock sharp. "Hello," she called out, looking around the flat for any sign of life. Hearing no response, she sat down on a chair, annoyance slowly building up inside her. Did he think this was a joke?!

Her upper lip curled as she saw a giant black scorch mark near the entrance. _He knew I was coming today, and he still didn't get rid of it, _she thought, indignant at the perceived insult.

"Sorry about that. I tried everything I could think of to clean it up, but nothing worked."

Daphne shrieked as she jumped up, turning around to see Harry Potter standing right behind her. "What the-How long were you there?!" She turned pale as she thought of what he said, "and did you legilimize me?!"

Harry shrugged as he set down a basket filled with clinking potion vials onto his bed, a small grin on his face, "Less than a second. And no, I didn't. Your face made it perfectly obvious what you were thinking."

"Ah," Daphne said, her cheeks pinking slightly, "I didn't hear you come in."

His grin widened, "Silent apparition. Took me a while to master it too," he finished proudly.

She couldn't help but feel impressed, silent apparition was a hard skill to master.

"Anyways," he continued, "sorry for being a bit late. Got some potions from the market; Skele-gro and Doxycide-"

"Doxycide?" Daphne asked, confusion evident in her tone.

Harry nodded, "Yeah, you'll see why in a second."

"But before we go, I think you should sign your contract, yeah?" he said as he withdrew two slightly crumpled looking rolls of parchment from his pocket.

"I didn't expect you to write it that quickly. Colour me impressed."

"I didn't write it myself," Harry snorted as he placed them onto his desk, "Hermione whipped it up for me this morning. I don't think I could write something like this in a year, much less a single morning."

Daphne carefully read the contract and saw everything was in order. She gulped as she reached the line on the bottom where she was supposed to sign. _Last chance to back out…_

She looked up and found herself staring into Harry's sparkling green eyes- something within them calling out to her, inviting her into his world. _All things of value come with risk, huh? _

She picked up one of the quills on his desk and signed both copies of the contract with a flourish.

She rolled them back up and gave one of them to Harry, who proceeded to haphazardly shove his copy into his pocket. "Harry," Daphne said, frowning, "That's a legal document. Treat it with more care."

Harry flashed a crooked grin at her as he scratched the nape of his neck, "You're probably right."

"Ugh," Daphne rolled her eyes as she put her own copy onto the desk, "I'll pick this up at the end of the day. You know, so it doesn't get ruined in my pocket."

Harry chuckled, "Right. Anyways, first thing we need to do is set up the place we're going to working from." He held out his hand, "Come on, I'll side-apparate you."

Daphne grasped it and barely registered the soft warmth emanating from it before the world became a swirl of color and pressed down upon her with force, as if it were trying to squeeze her out of a tube of toothpaste.

Without a sound, they suddenly appeared in a decidedly muggle looking street, standing right outside of a dilapidated town house. "Welcome," Harry said as he gestured towards the decrepit building, "To number 12 Grimmauld Place, ancestral home to the extinct house of Black."

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Daphne didn't know what she expected to find in the derelict building, but she definitely didn't anticipate finding a clean and perfectly well-kept, if somewhat dark, manor inside it. She exchanged a glance with Harry, who nodded and withdrew his wand. Daphne followed suit.

They cautiously made their way into the house, wary of any threat that may have made itself present. "Unexpected guest?" Daphne whispered as her eyes scanned their surroundings.

"Apparently," he replied, equally quiet. "Let's head to the kitchen. I'll enter, you cover my back."

She nodded, her heartrate increasing with every step they took towards the door opposite the staircase at the end of the corridor.

A short creature stepped out of the doorway, grey with large, floppy ears and even larger bulging eyes. Its face was small and pinched, making it look as if it had eaten a particularly bitter grapefruit. "Half-blood master has returned," the thing croaked, its voice hoarse from obvious disuse.

Harry laughed with relief as he sheathed his wand, "Kreacher," he breathed out, "you've been keeping the place tidy I see."

It snarled in disgust, revealing sharp yellow teeth, "Yes, for filthy half-blood master who abandoned his house. Kreacher enjoys cleaning in vain, yes he does," he growled before disappearing with a loud crack.

Daphne looked at Harry with wide eyes as she shoved her wand back into her pocket, "What was that?"

"That," he said, still looking at the place the ugly thing had been standing, "would be Kreacher. My house-elf."

"That was your house-elf?" she asked, her tone high-pitched with disbelief, "then isn't he supposed to be, you know, polite to you?"

"We had some longstanding issues I _thought_ we had gotten over. Clearly I was mistaken."

Daphne placed her hands on her hips as she fixed Harry with a pointed stare, "And you didn't think to warn me about him?"

"I didn't think he would be here," he replied as he scratched the nape of his neck, "I assumed he would be off working in Hogwarts or something. Considering our history and his track-record with house cleaning, I thought…" he trailed off.

"Anyways, at least we won't have to waste time cleaning the house or anything. Although I don't know what I'll do with all that Doxycide I bought," he grinned, the right corner of his mouth rising slightly higher than the left.

Once again, Daphne found herself rolling her eyes, "What are we doing today then?"

Harry made his way onto the staircase and beckoned her with a gesture. "Well," he said as they made their way up, "the only wards still active are the anti-apparition and anti-muggle wards, so I'll activate the rest and tie you to them." They arrived at the top of the staircase and found themselves in another hallway, one with a pair of large oak doors at the end closest to them.

Harry opened the door, revealing a library filled with leather-bound tomes. "In the meantime, can you research Dark magic, demons, and Albus Dumbledore."

"Why Dumbledore?" asked Daphne as her brows furrowed, "I don't really see what he has to do with this.". Harry quickly summarized the contents of Dumbledore's letter, making sure that Daphne understood that he was really the only lead they had in their investigation, and was therefore the priority topic of her research.

"Alright," Daphne affirmed, as she moved into the library, closing the door behind her. She couldn't help but gulp as she gazed upon the massive library. She had a lot of work to do.

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Her vision was blurry, and her eyes were watering by the time Harry had come to join her. "Any luck finding anything?" he asked.

Daphne shook her head, "Nothing significant, no." She felt frustration build up within her chest, an itch on her ribcage that grew with every second it wasn't scratched. "A few pieces of dark magic and veiled references to powers beyond this realm, but nothing else. Nothing useful on Dumbledore either, although…"

"Yes?" Harry asked, anticipation obvious within his gleaming green eyes.

"He apprenticed with Nicholas Flamel in his youth. There's something significant about that, I think." She felt as if she had all the pieces of the puzzle, but simply didn't know how they all related to one another. It was maddening, knowing the truth lay just on the edges of her awareness.

"Probably," he said as he yawned and lay his head on the table. "Oh, and you're keyed into the wards. You can apparate here directly from now on."

She nodded as she got up, "So I suppose I'm free to leave?"

"Mhm," he confirmed, not even looking up, "And wear something sportier for tomorrow. You'll be training."

"Training? What for?"

"Combat," Harry replied, yawning as he finally met her gaze, "You almost got me killed two days ago."

Daphne flushed as anger rushed to her head, hot and viscous. "Got you killed?! I saved your life if you don't remember? I'm not the one who decided to test if the laws of gravity were still functioning."

"Perhaps, but I wouldn't have needed to imitate Newton's apple if you had been able to hit that faun, would I?" Harry responded coolly; his annoyance betrayed only by a single raised brow.

"It's not like you're the one who saved me anyways," Daphne retorted, ego compelling her to argue despite knowing that he was right, "It was that Weasley fellow."

Harry nodded, "Yeah, thank Merlin he did. Maybe I still need to work on my judgement in battle. After all, I knew I wouldn't be able to do anything then, but instinct drove me to at least try to keep you safe."

Remorse flooded through Daphne's core, cold as a dementor's breath. He had gotten hurt because of her inexperience, and she acted like a complete prat when he pointed it out.

She knew that he was only trying to help, and that she could use the practice, as much as it stung her pride to admit it. It helped he wasn't being smug about it, his calm tone making it clear he was only being frank.

"That was quite smart for a Gryffindor," she said in an attempt to distract him from her outburst, "guilting me into agreeing."

Harry shrugged in response, a small smile playing about his lips, "Sure. Also helps I was telling the truth." He studied her over the rim of his glasses, a considering look upon his face. "In return, you'll teach me about healing, and I'll probably need you to explain a few bits of theory to me anyways."

Her shame waned as his acknowledgement of her as an equal, as someone to learn from as well as someone to teach, satisfied her pride. _He did that on purpose,_ she realized, impressed with his skillful manipulation.

"Clever, clever Mr. Potter," she laughed, "there seems to be a brain within that pretty head of yours."

He smiled at her, his lopsided grin making him even more attractive than he already was. "Glad to know you think I'm pretty, Ms. Greengrass," he said with a wink.

Daphne rolled her eyes, failing to keep herself from flushing red yet again. _That's another thing, _she thought with growing ire, _I keep on blushing around him for no discernable reason. I am Daphne Greengrass, and I do not blush! _

"Don't let it inflate your head too much," she fired back, "if it gets any bigger, you might not be able to fit through the doors anymore."

His smile took on a sardonic quality, "Funny that _you, _of all people, should say that."

She snorted. "See you tomorrow, Potter. And try to keep your ego in check until then," she said, disapparating away before he could say anything else.

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After picking up her copy of the contract from Harry's flat, Daphne apparated into the entrance hall of Greengrass manor. She entered the dining room and saw her father sitting in one of the chairs, head bowed as he intently studied a scroll of parchment. "Father," Daphne greeted the thin man with a slight bow of her head.

He looked up and grunted a response, his drab grey eyes looking _past_ Daphne more than _at_ her, before quickly refocusing on the parchment.

Daphne sat across Cyrus Greengrass, murmuring her thanks when the family house-elf appeared to serve her meal before taking her father's empty plate. "Where is Astoria, Father?" Daphne asked as she ate her meal.

"Don't know," he responded without glancing away from his oh-so-important-document.

The room fell silent except for the clinking of Daphne's cutlery.

She stood up the moment she finished her meal, "I'll be heading to my room," she said and left without waiting for a response.

After all, there was no use in waiting for something that wasn't coming.

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Daphne didn't remember falling asleep that night, but she knew it had to be after she received Astoria's letter informing her that she was staying with Draco Malfoy for the night. She lifted her head from the book she had apparently been using as a pillow, _Blood Curses: Misery that Lasts Beyond the Grave._ A dry tome, but one of the only ones she had yet to read on the subject. Placing her hands flat upon her study-desk, she stood up, ignoring the backpain borne of a night spent in a decidedly non-ergonomic chair.

She rushed through her morning ritual and put on a pair of sweatpants and a short-sleeved t-shirt, slightly uncomfortable with how the muggle clothes did practically nothing to hide her full curves. _It's just for exercise and besides, Potter is stupidly noble, _she rationalized. Thankfully her father's business ensured that her family had some contact with the muggle world, otherwise she might have had to resort to sweating in decent clothes.

"Bailey," she called out, and a short house-elf popped into existence in front of her, "Good morning. May I just have some toast, please? I'd like to leave the house sooner rather than later."

"Of course, mistress," Bailey said and disappeared, only to reappear a second later with a piece of toast wrapped in a napkin.

Daphne thanked her and quickly ate her breakfast as she made her way down towards the Manor's apparition point. She heard a whoosh, as if a heavy wind had suddenly blown through Greengrass manor, and saw Draco Malfoy exit the fireplace.

"Daphne," he greeted, frowning as he examined her attire.

"Malfoy," she responded, her voice as cold as northern wind, "as much as I'd like to entertain you, I have a job to get to. So, if you'll excuse me."

"Of course," he said, his tone perfectly polite, "however, I do need to discuss something important with you. I'll make it short." Upon seeing Daphne's curt nod, he continued, "Your sister is upset with you. Make up with her and try not to control her too much."

Anger rose within Daphne's core, a venomous viper ready to viciously rip apart any who disturbed it.

"I'm sorry," she spat out, "but who are you to judge? I, at least, care about her health. If you did too, you would agree!"

"I care about her happiness as much as I do about her health," Malfoy replied, his tone acerbic and his eyes hard, "And I know that constantly being treated like an invalid upsets her more than it helps her health. If you cared enough to notice, perhaps _you_ would agree!"

Daphne saw red, "How dare you?! You, who served the Dark Lord, who killed in the name of magical purity! Tell me, how long would it have been before you and your ilk got to my sister? Removed her and her 'curse-tainted' magic from this world?"

Malfoy looked down, refusing to meet her eyes, "I was a child, Daphne," he said, his voice slightly rough, "I wanted to follow in my father's footsteps, to make him proud."

She snorted derisively, "And that makes it okay? That poor Drakey-poo just wanted to please his daddy?"

"No," he said decisively as he finally looked up and met her angry gaze, "I have thought, said, and done terrible things. I know that wanting to emulate my father doesn't absolve me of my guilt. But I'm trying to be better." His eyes were wide, a plea for forgiveness shining within them.

He wouldn't find it with Daphne.

Daphne, who spent her school years observing his juvenile cruelty firsthand, who lived in a Slytherin house that was firmly controlled by his malicious hand. "For now," she said coldly, "for as long as it suits your ends."

She pushed past him and stood at the end of the entrance hall. Daphne shot him one last, frigid look before disappearing with a deafening bang.

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"And this is the training room," Harry announced as they entered what once was the attic of the Black Manor. Daphne looked around the room, her eyebrows climbing up her forehead as she took it all in.

It was as large as a quidditch pitch and its walls, which Daphne sensed were laced with softening charms, were adorned with empty bookcases. There were a few cheap chairs and bare tables strewn around the room, but it was empty otherwise.

"No such thing as a barren battlefield," Harry explained upon seeing Daphne's confusion.

He withdrew his wand, prompting her to do the same, "You'll stand forty paces away from me," he instructed, "We'll have a practice duel so I can judge your abilities."

Daphne nodded as she got into position, a vicious smile making its way onto her face. She knew there was no way in hell that she could beat him but knocking him around a bit was sure to alleviate some of her bad temper.

"We'll start when you cast your first spell," he called out to her.

"_Stupefy_," Daphne cast in lieu of an answer, a bolt of red light erupting from her wand and speeding towards Harry. He flicked his wand, sending Daphne's spell back towards her at double its initial speed.

Daphne cast a hasty shield, relieved when the _stupefy_ splashed harmlessly against the luminescent blue light of her _Protego_.

That's when the table hit her from behind- she fell to her knees and quickly looked up, only to be greeted by the sight of red spell-light.

She awoke a few seconds later to see Harry stood directly above her, a hand outstretched. "You alright?" he asked, his eyes full of concern.

Daphne was tempted to refuse his hand, but the pain in her back informed her that would have been a monumentally bad decision. She winced as he pulled her onto her feet, "Fine, just a bit sore."

"That's normal," he nodded "You did get hit by a table after all." He grimaced, "I didn't actually expect you to get hit by that."

"It came from behind! Was I supposed to see it with the eye on the back of my head?" she exclaimed.

Harry held up his palms in surrender, "No, no. Sorry about that. I guess I forgot that most people don't need to know how to sense things magically."

"I'm a healer Potter," she glared at him, "I can sense magic."

"In battle, I mean," he said, scratching the nape of his neck, "It's one thing to sense magic when you're safe and stationary and looking for subtle changes in patients, it's another thing entirely to do the same when you're mobile and trying to develop a sense of environmental awareness."

She nodded, frustration building up in the pit of her belly. "Let's do this again," she said, her eyes glinting with determination.

"After you've picked up battle sensing. Instead, you'll be trying to land a hit on me."

"So, you'll just be defending?" Daphne asked, torn between feeling insulted and relieved. Upon seeing his nod, she moved back into position. _At least I can't embarrass myself any more than I did the last time, _she thought gratefully.

She had no idea just how completely wrong she was.

Fifteen minutes had passed, and she still hadn't managed to land a single hit on the bastard! And to add insult to injury, he hadn't even used a single shield. He simply danced out of the way of most spells, and summoned various objects to block them when he couldn't.

Her _reductor_ curse slammed into a table, blasting it into splinters that shot off in all directions. Daphne protected herself with a hastily cast shield- Harry transfigured the wooden fragments into butterflies.

"Enough," he called out, his deep voice ringing across the room. There was no way in hell Daphne was stopping now, not until she hit him at least once.

She continued her assault, barraging Harry with a hail of curse-light. He ducked under the spells and swiped his wand in a long, sweeping motion, sending his transfigured butterflies around her legs. He twisted his wand-the butterflies coalesced into a length of rope.

It tightly wrapped around her legs and sent Daphne tumbling to the ground. Her wand slipped out of her grip and rolled beyond her reach, "Damn it."

Harry undid his spell and the ropes fell away, dissolving into a small pile of splinters. "Next time," he said gently, "listen."

She nodded as she got up to her feet and gazed into his green eyes, shivering as she felt his puissant magic wash over her. _By Merlin, he's powerful. _

Daphne's nose crinkled as she sighed in disgust, "That was pathetic, wasn't it? I couldn't even land a single spell on you."

"I wouldn't call it pathetic," Harry disagreed, "I imagine that you performed better than most people would have."

It was supposed to comfort her, but Daphne couldn't help but feel slighted anyway. "Better than average is pathetic, Potter."

"You'll improve, don't worry about it, we'll just have to…"

Daphne sat down on the ground, her expression blank.

Harry moved to join her, "It's not a big deal," he said kindly, "everyone starts somewhere."

"It's not that- or at least not just that," she said in monotone.

"What is it then?"

Daphne wasn't the sort of person to share her troubles with others, only ever being truly open with her sister. Unfortunately, she couldn't exactly talk to Astoria when she seemed to be avoiding her.

Common sense dictated that she should keep her mouth shut and just go along with the rest of her day- she had only just really met Harry, after all. Why, he was practically a stranger!

But looking into his grass-green eyes, wide with concern, she knew that she could trust him. And she really wanted to talk to somebody…

"It's just-" Daphne she said abruptly, the words sticking in her throat like thick phlegm. Harry nodded encouragingly.

"First," she spat out, "first, I get fired from Mungo's, so I'm a shit healer." Daphne noticed Harry opening his mouth to protest so she covered it before continuing, "then Astoria storms out of the house and doesn't come back. Malfoy," her left eye twitched as her voice increased in volume, "informs me that she's staying with him and implies that I'm a shit sister."

"And now, I find out I'm shit with a wand. I'm supposed to be great, but I don't even know if I'm good at anything," she finished, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

Had she seen Harry's shocked expression at any other time, she would have laughed. "What?" Daphne snapped.

He nervously laughed, "It's just-you know-I didn't expect to hear that from you is all. I mean, you're the last person I would have expected that from."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the way I understood it, you only got fired because you kept on crossing the line, not because you're incompetent. On the contrary- you're deadly competent. As I can personally attest," he smiled, and Daphne couldn't help but smile back. "And while I don't know much about your relationship with your sister, you obviously care about her-"

"And how would you know?"

"Well you always try to prevent her from casting spells, and you research magical infusion therapies. For her curse."

Her eyes widened, "You know about that?"

He nodded, "She's the Minister's secretary, and Proudfoot, the auror who trained me, is one of Kingsley's most trusted. He ran background checks on her and all the other candidates for the position, and I helped him. As for the infusion therapies," he scratched the back of his head, "I guessed that was the reason behind it. Why else would you be so obsessed over them?"

"When did you figure that out?" she asked impressed- a little intimidated too, but impressed, nonetheless.

"Last night. I started thinking about it after you left."

"That still doesn't change that Malfoy was right," she sighed, "for the exact same reasons you gave, funny enough." She elaborated upon seeing his confused frown, "I'm too controlling apparently."

They fell silent as Harry thought.

"I don't know, maybe," Harry finally replied, "But I do know that Malfoy doesn't really know either. The only person who does is Astoria."

Daphne bit the inside of her cheek, "You're probably right, but she's just so- so stubborn!" she exclaimed. "She doesn't know what's good for her and she'll get herself hurt. She's my little sister, Harry."

"Talk to her about it," he said, "only way you'll come to an agreement."

Daphne begrudgingly concurred.

He continued, "As for the fighting part, you're really not that bad. You have power- although that doesn't matter in the long run- and you have the basic spells down. It's just books and practice at this point."

"Speaking of which," he said as he stood up, "here is the first drill that I want you to learn. It's a transfiguration drill- I've noticed you didn't use any transfiguration spells today, so I thought it would be for the best if we started with that."

He produced a round pebble from his pocket, "All you'll need is a small stone for this, so keep one on you from now on. It'll also serve as transfiguration material in a pinch."

With a minute swish and flick of his wand the pebble started floating around them both, "Now, this exercise grows along with you- the more skilled you are, the more complex things you can do with it. For now, I want you to keep the rock floating around you. Once you can do that without concentrating on it," he flicked his wand towards the small bit of stone, transforming it into a slab of wood, "try transfiguring it. Both material and morphological transfiguration, if you can. Stone to wood to glass to stone; different shapes every time, although I'd rather you focus on turning it into things you can use in combat, spears and barriers and the like."

The glass spike floating past Daphne's head flew into Harry's hand, turning back into a round pebble the moment it landed. "Focus on making your transfigurations instantaneous, that's the goal for you. This exercise also allows one to practice imposing one's will onto objects, an important part of breaking enchantments. But I imagine that you're already quite good at that, seeing as you're a Healer."

Daphne nodded, "That's a pretty clever exercise, Harry. Did you come up with it?"

"No, but I'm flattered you think that might be the case," he said with a grin, "As far as I know, it was a wizard from the mid to late 1800s. A Turk who took down a whole bunch of dark wizards and monsters, most of which have never been seen before or since."

Her eyes widened, "Arslan Pasha!"

Harry's eyebrows crawled up his forehead, "Er…you know about him?"

Daphne narrowed her eyes at him. "I just meant that _I _don't," he stammered out, "That's all."

"Well of course I do," she sniffed, looking at Harry as if he were a cockroach, "He's one of the most famous wizards of all time, nearly every magical child has grown up hearing about him. Greatest mage of his era and Flamel's apprentice…" she trailed off.

"Huh," Harry said, "that's quite interesting. He sounds like Dumbledore."

Daphne kept silent- an idea took root within her mind, growing with her every thought.

"To the library, Potter, now!"

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There was a loud thump as Harry dropped a large stack of books onto the table in front of Daphne. "That would have been a lot easier if you'd let me levitate the books," he grumbled.

"Spells damage books," Daphne replied distractedly as she folded a corner of the page in the book currently in front of her before grabbing another from the table.

"And dog-earing pages doesn't?"

She shushed him, holding up a single, dainty finger. "Shh! I'm onto something!"

Harry grumbled as he plopped down next to her. "You done yet?" he asked impatiently, craning his neck to look over her shoulder.

"Almost…" she got up and took three books from the pile and lined them up in front of the auror, "Shot summaries on Albus Dumbledore, Arslan Pasha, and Yorgo the Clean. Is there a… connecting thread between them?"

"Not that I can see, no," Daphne's gaze harshened, practically burning through his skull, "Of course, I'm a dunderhead, so I'll look again…"

His brows furrowed as he focused on the books laying in front of him, "Well, Arslan was like an older Dumbledore except… more brutal? A product of his time I suppose, or maybe because he spent more time fighting monsters. And Yorgo…. well, I can't make sense of him. I mean sure he was powerful, but he was a crime boss."

Daphne was dangerously close to strangling him. "Third book, bottom of the page I've marked out."

"It has been well documented that Yorgo's reign of terror over the Mediterranean was supported by the Ottoman Empire, in no large part because he kept what the Zeki-Adams, the sultan's council of wizards, deemed dark knowledge out of the hands of the populace. No doubt, the Greek wizard's rise to prominence was greatly facilitated by his apprenticeship to the legendary alchemist Nicholas Flamel-"

"-Don't you see," Daphne burst out, no longer able to wait for Harry to puzzle it out, "There's always one, and only one, great wizard somewhere out in the world who has studied under Flamel! And," she gestured to the other books on the table, "this isn't a coincidence either, these are just the most recent examples. I've noticed that most of these wizards stay alive until a little after Flamel's next apprentice comes around, with two recent exceptions; Arslan and you."

The healer gestured towards the book in the middle of the three, "And what is Arslan known for?"

Daphne smiled as Harry's eyes lit up with comprehension, "Killing dark wizards… and monsters. Demons…"

"Exactly, and you know that Flamel founded Beauxbatons?"

"He did?"

"Of course, you dunce," she said with a roll of her eyes, "and you know what _that_ means?"

"What?"

The blonde smiled beatifically, "You're taking me to France."

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"I don't know why you're making me come," Daphne whined half-heartedly.

Harry mockingly grinned in response, "Well, because the Minister needs to know exactly who I'm taking to France." Which may have been true, but Daphne knew that the auror had an ulterior motive for making her accompany him today.

The bastard.

The elevator doors dinged open and Harry walked over to the minister's secretary, "Hello Astoria, how are you?"

"Fine," she responded, her brows rising as she looked at Daphne-who was fighting the urge to awkwardly scuff her shoes on the marble floor.

"I have an appointment with the Minister and Head Auror Proudfoot about my current mission. Would you mind keeping my employee company while I'm in there-" Daphne shot him a look burning with betrayal- "I'm sure you know each other after all," he finished with a wink and entered Shacklebolt's office before either of them could protest.

"Er… hi," Daphne said weakly.

Astoria's gaze was uncharacteristically cold, "Sister."

Daphne started fidgeting with her fingers, "It's been a while since I've last visited you at work, how has it been treating you?"

"Well."

"Oh."

Looking into her younger sister's eyes, Daphne felt…uncomfortable. She took a deep breath, "I'm sorry."

Astoria snorted, "Sure. You know this isn't the first time we've had this conversation."

She did. She also knew that it wouldn't be the last and that Astoria knew that too, and _that_ had probably led to her disproportionate anger.

Daphne nodded.

Astoria curled her thin upper lip, "And you don't think there's something wrong with that? That we keep on going around in a circle- day after day, year after year?"

Shame and frustration swirled together her belly, forming an ugly concoction that scorched the pits of her stomach. "Well, you keep on being an idiot! Don't you get it, your blood is cursed! It killed mother, and now it's going to kill you!"

"And what, you expect me to act as if I'm an invalid? Stop being such a bloody controlling bint and-"

"I won't if it keeps you alive!"

Silence permeated the room; one so absolute it was almost tangible.

"I…" Daphne's eyes teared up as she looked towards the ceiling, "When mother died, everything changed."

"Daphne…"

"Father used to be warm, loving, before the curse took her. And mother…I've forgotten what her smile looks like, you know?"

Astoria sniffled, "Daphne, I miss mum too. I miss the family we were before she passed away but keeping her alive wasn't your responsibility and her death wasn't your fault."

"I know that," she replied weakly.

"Then you should know the same applies to me."

Astoria's wiry arms wrapped around her, and tears began to flow down Daphne's cheeks in earnest, "I was eight then, a child. I'm not one now. I can save you; I have to." She felt Astoria draw in breath to protest and quickly cut her off, "You're my baby sister, I can't lose you too."

Daphne felt her sister's rake-thin body rattle in her arms as she sobbed, "I can't live life feeling-feeling useless!"

"You don't have to," she stepped back and looked up into her Astoria's eyes as she cupped her thin face, "just don't use magic if you can help it, alright? Like that summoning charm," Daphne said with a mock-glare.

Astoria let out a watery chuckle as she pulled back and wiped her eyes with her sleeves, "Alright."

The Greengrass girls barely finished erasing the evidence of their emotional tête-à-tête when Harry walked out of Minister Shacklebolt's office with a short, heavily bandaged man.

He walked up to Daphne and scrutinized her with piercing dark eyes, "You're the one Unspeakable Potter has roped into this mess, eh?"

She gulped, "Yes…"

"Keep the runt alive, will you? I've spent too much time and effort into making him a semi-skilled auror and will be very disappointed if I find out it's all been for naught."

Before Daphne could respond, the foul-tempered wizard marched away without a backward glance. The healer looked at her employer, wide-eyed and slightly rattled.

Harry chuckled, "Don't mind Proudfoot, that's just what he's like. Anyways, we're all set to head to France, although convincing Madame Maxime to allow us to poke around is on us."

"Good thing that I can speak French," Daphne said, a smirk on her lips and mischief in her eyes, "so you can leave that to me. I have a plan."

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Three days later, Harry was nervously pacing back and forth in the Beauxbaton's guest lecture hall. "You really couldn't get her to agree any other way?"

Daphne smiled, "You mean without using your reputation and offering your tuitional services? Well, of course I could have, but that's no fun now, is it?"

The Auror suddenly paused and looked at his companion, mouth agape, "You...You little- Argh! Why?"

"Well remember three days ago how you tricked me into talking to Astoria?"

"But-That was for your own good! You were clearly feeling bad about-"

"And this is for yours," she said as her smile grew wider, faux sympathy upon her visage, "you clearly need a boost in confidence."

Harry looked murderous, "Because lecturing a bunch of kids is clearly going to- you know what, how do you even know French anyways?"

The healer's smirk gained an element of condescension, "I'm a pureblood, Potter."

Daphne studied Harry's now twitching jaw with interest, "Does that matter?" he retorted angrily.

"Clearly, it does," she replied, fascinated by how bright Harry's eyes were in his rage.

"That's, that's…"

Daphne had the sudden feeling that she had crossed a line somewhere, but wasn't exactly sure where. "You'll do fine," she said as she rubbed his back, "I don't know why you're so worried anyways. I mean, you did lead that group back in Hogwarts, Dumbledore's Army, was it?"

She felt him relax under her ministrations. "Yeah, but this really isn't the same," he replied, his tone still terse.

"Well I suppose it isn't. Just talk about some theory you learned about in Auror training, that'll probably suffice." She noticed the hall slowly filling with blue-robed students, "Well Potter, It's almost showtime. Break a leg!" she said as she took her seat in the front row.

It wasn't long until all the students were seated and the half-giant Headmistress of Beauxbatons, Madame Maxime, was addressing all those in attendance. "Bonjour everyone, I know this is a last-minute arrangement, but Auror Potter was here for some business and kindly volunteered to give a lecture on Magical Defense."

The crowd applauded for Harry, who was now sporting a faint blush. "All those who are taking the English Language course and the Defense course may report their attendance at the end of the lecture for bonus points in those courses." Upon hearing the news, the students applauded even louder, and some even started cheering. Madame Maxime quieted them with a curt gesture of her gigantic hands and gave the floor to Harry Potter.

Harry looked neither confident nor nervous, which was a sign to Daphne, and anyone with any experience in occlumency, that he was very nervous and was occluding to hell and back.

"Well," he started off carefully, "I believe that we should start with the most basic of basics. What characteristics do you believe makes one effective at magical combat?"

"Knowledge!" Said one student from the blue mass that was the audience.

"Power!" said another.

"Technique!"

"Speed!"

"Yeah, yeah," Harry said as he gently made a quieting gesture with his hands, a small smile growing on his face, "those are all very important. After all, you can't shield-" he withdrew his wand and in the blink of an eye a translucent semi-dome of pale light sprouted from it, "if you don't know the incantation, don't correctly perform the wand-motion, and don't have the power. And if you cast the spell too late, then you're hit either way. But, there's something else, two something elses really."

He paused, and the entire audience seemed to lean in in unison.

"The lesser of the two is practice, everything can be trained; spells can be learned, techniques perfected, speed and power developed. But," he said with a sharp gesture, "in the moment of truth, when all things come to a head, the single most important thing is the ability to keep moving!"

"Don't freeze up, even when the enemy seems to outclass you in every which way, even when fear crawls up your spine and forces you still. Move! You get hit, don't just lie there and take it. Move on, leave fear and pain and all those things that push you into stillness behind and just move!"

"Dodge that spell, roll with the impact, strike back, do anything so long as you keep moving." He looked around the audience, clearly enjoying their attention. "Now, for the more technical part of this seminar. I believe that first I'll go over a few basic stances that allow for free movement, as well as…"

As Harry gave his lecture, Daphne couldn't help but admire how he wrapped the audience around his finger, how knowledgeable and experienced he seemed, and how clearly he made his points. He was quite the instructor!

It felt like no time had passed when Harry had made his closing statements and walked off the stage to raucous applause.

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"That was incredible, Professor Potter!" Daphne said with a wink as they set off to explore the labyrinthine marble corridors of the Beauxbatons basement, "Especially that part about the stances, I mean, I never considered how body posture affects one's efficacy in a duel, how different stances complement different styles of casting. You often use a wolf stance, don't you? I've noticed you tend to stand on the balls of your feet and crouch slightly when we practice. You also keep your wand slightly low."

"Yes," Harry replied somewhat distractedly, "Although when I was a Hogwarts student, I favored the lion stance, not that I knew it was called that, or about stances in general really. Side profile against the opponent-"

"Wand held at elbow height, high to facilitate make the downward motions of most directly offensive spells," Daphne finished for him, quoting his lecture almost verbatim, "You really were good, you know? Merlin, the fact I remember that proves it!"

"Thanks," he said curtly, and silence fell between them. For a while they only heard their footsteps echoing on the white walls of the deserted corridor.

"So, why'd you switch?" Daphne asked once the awkwardness was too much to bear.

"I started using transfigurations and object-based magic in Auror training. The low posture of the wolf stance allows me to reach the ground easier and channel magic through it, if necessary. And a lot of object-based magic, like the any of the Leviosa variants, use upward motions. Although its best to switch stances as the situation dictates."

Sensing another bout of awkward silence slowly encroaching, Daphne quickly asked another question, "Do you know where we're going?"

"Not quite, but… I sense something. If that makes sense."

"Ah."

Their footsteps echoed, once twice, thric-

"Have I done something to offend you?" Daphne exclaimed, frustration exploding out of her, "Was it that I tricked you into giving that talk? Well you shouldn't be, not after what you pulled-"

"No, it wasn't the talk," he responded quietly.

"Well what was it, then?!"

They suddenly stopped walking as Harry turned to look her in the eyes, his features barely illuminated by the candles hanging on the walls. "What did you mean?" he said, slightly frowning.

Daphne's brows furrowed, "What?"

"When you said that clearly being a pureblood matters. What did you mean?"

Daphne felt herself going red, "Well, it's just that…Every proper pureblood child learns French or German. Learning another language is just a part of it." She suddenly felt anger, anger that this boor embarrassed her over such an innocuous statement, "What, you think every asset of our culture should be erased? That we should forget our heritage to accommodate those who are not born into it?"

"You know," Harry snarled, his eyes wild with unexpected rage, "you sound just like a filthy Death Eater!"

Crack!

Daphne slapped him, "You fucking reprobate, how dare you! I fought against them, same as you did!"

He rubbed his red cheek, eyes cast downward.

"I'm sorry," he eventually murmured, "I shouldn't have said that."

Under normal circumstances Daphne would have called him something awful and sent him running, tail between his legs. But…he just looked so contrite, so pathetic, that she simply didn't have the heart to.

"Why'd you say it then?" she sighed, the anger slowly draining out of her.

"It's just…" he looked up and Daphne nodded encouragingly, "When we were in Hogwarts, I didn't really mind all that stuff. Malfoy would call Hermione a mudblood, and Ron a blood-traitor, and I'd get angry but… not like this." He sat on the floor and leaned against a wall, the faint candlelight accentuating the lines across his face.

Daphne joined him on the floor and placed a hand on his knee, "What changed?"

His jaw clenched as he ground his teeth, "The Blood War. That year when Voldemort took Britain, it wasn't just a word anymore. It was cause for death, cause for those of 'lesser birth' to get shipped off to Azkaban."

"Harry, I understand that, but what-"

"It was my fault," he suddenly said.

"What?"

The words rushed out of him, like water from a breaking dam, "If I were quicker, better, more vigilant, Lupin wouldn't have died, Tonks, Fred, Dobby, Hedwig, none of them would have died!" he shouted, tears in his eyes.

He took a deep breath, slowly calming down as Daphne rubbed his knee, "So when I see or hear anything that reminds of…then," He made a circling gesture with his hand, "I get… weird."

Daphne softly placed a hand on his now reddened cheek, "Harry, you are in dire need of help. The war wasn't your fault, for Morgana's sake you stopped it. You didn't harm anyone, you understand?"

"I-"

She shushed him by placing a finger on his lips, "And while I understand you- sympathize with you, even- I want you to know that your reaction wasn't okay. I detest the Death Eaters and what they stand for just as much as you do, and suffered under them like most everyone in Britain, but that does not mean that I'm going to renounce my heritage. My children will learn French or German, and while they may celebrate Christmas, they will definitely celebrate Yule." She gazed deeply into his verdant eyes, "Do you understand?"

He nodded, "I do. And I'm sorry, I mean it."

She smiled softly, "I can tell." She got up and extended a hand towards him, which he gratefully took. "You know you got off lightly, don't you?"

"Yeah," he said, scuffing his shoes on the floor, "Err… Can we keep this conversation between us? I… haven't really talked to anyone about this."

She snorted, "You've got problems, Potter. Seriously. You need to speak to someone."

"I know."

"But you won't, will you," she said with a shake of her head, "tell you what, I'll keep this conversation between us on the condition that we talk about this again some other time."

He smiled, "Deal."

As they continued walking down the corridor, Harry started snickering.

"What?" Daphne asked, her voice tinged with both annoyance and amusement.

"Nothing, it's just I never would have guessed that when I hired you, I'd also be hiring a therapist!"

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In the depths of Beauxbatons, it was hard to keep track of time. Daphne knew that they had probably only spent about a couple hours wandering the underground maze, but it felt like an eternity had passed.

"Are you sure you know where we are going?" Daphne asked for what felt like the hundredth time. The marble of the walls and floors had long since been replaced by a strange blue stone that hummed with arcane energy. It unnerved and fascinated her in equal measure.

"Yes," Harry replied with a sigh.

"How?"

"I told you, I don't know exactly. It feels like something here is…calling to me."

"Well, can you tell it to call to you a little faster?"

"No, Daphne I-wait," he said and held up a hand, "do you feel that?"

"Feel what?" Daphne said, she swung her arms around, "I don't feel anything."

"It's warmer, isn't it?" he asked.

"I guess- hey wait! Where are you going?!"

Harry broke off into a run and sped down the corridor, Daphne barely managing to keep up. He suddenly came to a stop and Daphne bounced off his back and onto the floor. She panted as she got up and rubbed her now smarting bum. "A little- warning- next time," Daphne said between gasps.

She looked past Harry and saw him staring at a large raptor with rheumy black eyes. It had a bright red plumage, but several of its feathers were as black as charcoal. It slowly opened its beak and a most beautiful song burst out from within it, one that made Daphne feel a warm, comforting fire within the pits of her belly. She felt revitalized as the song washed away all the fatigue of the past few hours. "What is that?" she asked, wonder sparkling in her eyes.

"That," Harry said with a fond smile, "is Fawkes. A phoenix and an old friend." He stepped forward and lightly stroked the bird's head. "You look a little under the weather, burning day soon?"

Fawkes trilled another song, one every bit as beautiful as the last but this one was tinged with a hint of melancholy. Its song slowly adopted an overt rhythm as it sang a low note with consistent periodicity. It reminded Daphne of the stories of ancient ritual magic done by the pagan Wicca and the Incans of America. Glowing red words floated out of the basin beneath the Phoenix's talons: _Ye who have been chosen to carry the burden of the Phoenix, our order and our flame, do ye accept. _

Daphne looked over at Harry and noticed he was swaying in time to the Phoenix's song, his eyes glazed and bright. "I do." He intoned, his voice ringing with magic and the solemnity of a True Promise spoken.

Oath magic, Daphne realized with panic and awe, the kind only ever heard about in children's tales. Unbreakable Oaths, which take the lives of the oath bearers should they ever be broken, were practically unheard of in Wizarding Society, as the magic involved required sacrifice- like all powerful ritual magic. In the old stories, the price was often the magic or life of either a third party or the one asking for the oath. In this case, however…

The phoenix burst into white hot flames, its body turning to ash even as it sang its last few notes. The song ended as the last of the bird's remains finally burnt away.

Harry gasped and fell to the floor with a painful thump. "Harry!" Daphne exclaimed and pulled him onto his feet, "Are you alright?"

"Fine," he mumbled, "just dizzy." Daphne let go of him, relieved that he remained standing, "There's a weight in my chest. I feel it."

"You swore an Unbreakable Oath, Harry…There are consequences to that sort of thing. Dire ones." She scrutinized his face, "Are you sure you're alright? You still look a bit pale."

"Yeah, Yeah. Fine," he replied with a distracted wave. "Give me a minute." He stepped up to the basin and carefully lowered his face into it.

"Harry, that seems like a horrendous idea, don-"

He suddenly flew back and crashed into Daphne, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

She jumped onto her feet and withdrew her wand in a single swift motion, her eyes scanning the area for threats.

"Relax," Harry said as he slowly got up, clearly in pain, "We're safe. That's just how the exit works."

"The exit?" She suddenly noticed that he was clutching a thick book to his chest, "Where did you get that?"

His eyes darted around, a wary look in them, "Later. In Grimmauld." Daphne took a step towards the basin and reached out to it.

"Don't" Harry barked, tone as sharp as an iron blade, "Only those who have sworn the Oath can touch it. Everyone else…"

Daphne gulped, "Point taken. What if someone wanders here on accident?"

He started limping back the way they came, "No one will. This place only exists because we're here. Or more specifically, because I'm here."

"You?" Daphne asked as she cast a pain-relieving spell on him.

He shot her a grateful smile, "Thanks. Yeah me. The phoenix's chosen, or Dumbledore's in any case."

"How do you know all this?"

"Later."

"Right."

The return journey took less than a fraction of the time the initial one did. It wasn't long until they gave their thanks to the headmistress of Beauxbatons and made their way back to the portkey office.

As they waited in the blandly decorated magical travels station for their Portkey to arrive, Daphne kept on glancing at Harry whenever she thought he wasn't looking. Something was obviously on his mind- his eyes held a vacant look, and he gave monosyllabic responses whenever she asked something.

"Considering the high ceiling and large floor space, I'd say this probably used to be a muggle air hangar before the French wizards conjured up a few walls and repurposed it. What do you think, Harry?" Daphne said, bored out of her mind.

"Mhm."

_Great_, she thought, _I'm not even getting the lone syllable anymore. _

"Is everything ok?" She asked once again.

He nodded without even sparing her a glance.

Daphne huffed as she returned to impatiently waiting for their portkey.

"Portkey 9-A to London, 9-A to London, will be departing shortly. All travelers please report to Travel Hall A," announced a disembodied voice, its timbre pleasant and hermaphrodite, before repeating the message in French.

She got up and noticed that Harry had yet to do the same. "Harry," she said with no small amount of annoyance, "You coming?"

For the first time since their departure from Beauxbatons, Harry looked her in the eye. "What?" he asked.

"Our Portkey is ready, come on. I know France is a lovely country, but you surely don't want to stay here, do you?"

"Sorry. Where is it?"

Daphne glared at him, "Hall A, Harry, as you should know since you arranged for the tickets."

"Ah, right," Harry replied with a sheepish smile, one that alleviated most of Daphne's annoyance.

She rolled her eyes, "Come on, you big useless brute. What would you do without me?"

He laughed as he held the door open for her, "Miss my portkey. Or maybe still floundering about for a lead back in England."

Her eyes scanned the large hall until they eventually rested upon a yellow ribbon, suspended halfway to high ceiling, twisted into the number 9.

"The ribbon is yellow; we've only got a couple minutes left. Let's pick up the pace." They started quickly walking towards their portkey, dodging other travelers who were rushing to their destinations in a panicked frenzy.

"Speaking of this lead, did anything come of it?" Daphne shouted over the chaotic din.

"We'll talk back in Grimmauld!" He replied, "Not much longer left. A little patience is all I'm asking for."

They skidded to a stop as they approached an indigo robed security officer standing in front of an old boot surrounded by a couple of people. "Papers please," he gruffly demanded in heavily accented English.

The pair handed their passports to the man, who studied them for discrepancies. When he couldn't find any, he stepped out of the way and let them through.

"You noticed the spatial redirection ward?" Harry asked.

Daphne snorted, "How could I not. Our path to the portkey was clear until we were close to the damn thing. It was like he sprouted out of the ground! Waste of magic, really, when walls and a booth would do the same thing."

"Like this it's harder for anyone to sneak by, especially with all the detection wards they tied to the spatial redirection ones."

"How so? You can just set up detection wards around the perimeter of the walls, can't you?"

Harry smiled, "Yeah, but then an officer would have to go and investigate the disturbance, meaning you would have to hire two officers per portkey instead of one."

Daphne's nose wrinkled as they grabbed onto the portkey, "Do these things always have to smell so terribly?"

"Uh…try not to breath with your nose."

The ribbon above their head turned red, and the officer began counting down from five. When he reached zero, Daphne felt a pull on her navel and suddenly found herself in the portkey terminal in London.

She heard a groan next to her, and saw Harry sprawled on the ground. "I hate portkeys," he moaned.

"You know, this is even more amusing than when we first arrived in France," he glared at her as he got to his feet, "How is it that you're always the only passenger who never lands on his feet?" she said, gesturing to the other travelers, who were now exiting the room.

"Shut up, Daphne."

HPHPHPHPHPHHPHHPHPHHPHHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHPHHPHHPHPHHPHHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHPHHPHHPHPHHPHHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHPHHPHHPHPHHPHHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHPHHPHHPHPHHPHHPHPHPHPHPH

They flooed into Grimmauld place, tired as the grave. And once again, Harry found himself on the floor.

"I've got to ask Harry, do you just like the taste of floor?" Daphne teased; her mouth quirked into a smile.

He flushed, "I- I haven't tripped on the floo in years!"

"Of course, of course," Daphne said with a smile that told of just how much she believed him. "Now, before we discuss what the kitchen tastes like, how about you tell me about what we found back in France."

Harry's expression abruptly turned serious as they sat around the dining table. He withdrew the book they got from Beauxbatons and placed it onto the table, "When I got sucked into the basin, I found myself in a room. A library, one that looked like a much smaller version of the one in Hogwarts, except all the shelves were empty. Except for this," He said, pointing towards the leather-bound tome.

"When I picked it up, I saw a light flash in the center of the room. There was a giant stone slab there, one that wasn't there before. I watched as it burned my name into it, which is when I noticed the other names…"

"And?" Daphne leaned in, "Was I right or what?"

"Yes… but I'm starting to suspect we may be on the wrong trail."

There was a brief silence as Harry scratched the nape of his neck, clearly looking for a way to lucidly expound upon his thoughts.

"Have you realized that all of Flamel's apprentices- I mean-"

"Just spit it out," Daphne said, her impatience getting the better of her.

"Yorgo was a crime boss, just a couple steps away from being a proper dark lord. Arslan may have been known for fighting monsters, for being a protector, but he was also known for being vicious. I saw their names there, but I also saw a few others. I didn't recognize every name I saw, but I did a few. Godric Gryffindor was there. And Aldous Emeric."

Daphne frowned, "Ok, so Emeric the Evil was on there, big deal. Why're you so shaken-"

"Dumbledore wasn't on the list!" he blurted out.

"What?" Daphne's eyes widened, "but then the name above yours- what was it?"

He looked her dead in the eyes, anxiety lining his features.

"It was _Gellert Grindelwald_!"

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Post-Chapter AN: Hope you all liked this chapter. I believe most of the major character arcs have been set up by this point, but you never know what my demented mind will come up with next. This was an interesting chapter to write, especially since Daphne is such a different character to Harry. It was a challenge getting into her headspace, and I have no idea if I did the character justice. This difficulty was compounded by the fact that this chapter set up a lot of important plot points/character stuff that I hope will pay off later on.

To be honest, I'm not 100 percent satisfied with the result, but I've already put off posting this chapter for months, so I decided it was high time to bite the bullet and just post it.

There was also the fact that I ran into some problems whilst planning the more demon related stuff. I had a vague idea about where I wanted the story to go, but the details always seemed a bit off. That was until I re-read one of my childhood favourites this winter break: The Demonata series by Darren Shan. However, it still didn't quite click until I started playing Morrowind again, and realized that certain aspects of the lore found in the Elder Scrolls series really meshed well with this fic. I'll point out the specific inspirations as we get to the moments that are pertinent to them. If you're interested in that sort of thing, I'll most likely put that stuff in the post-chapter AN.

I also spent most of a day designing the cover for this fic. It's mostly composed of a bunch of free-use stock images from a website called . I hope it's somewhat decent and captures the spirit of this fic. Tell me what you think about it.

Anyways, next chapter is a Harry chapter, so hopefully it will come out much quicker than this one did. I have no idea why, but I find him much easier to write.

Stay safe everyone, and remember to wash your hands. Covid is a bi-

-Wolver


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